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famoujS  american  ^ongis 


Sumom  :amertean 

Kuxbta  of  ^be  Hotie?  of  <i3ceat  Compo^et^ 


C{)oma0  p.  Crotoell  &  Co, 
J13eto  Pork 


Copyright,  1905  and  1906 

By  The  Butterick  Publishing  Co.  (Limited) 

Copyright,  1906,  by  Thomas  Y.  Crowell  &  Co. 

Published  September,  1906 


Composition  and  electrotype  plates  by 
D.  B.  Updike,  The  Merrymount  Press,  Boston 


Co  mp  lister 
31sa6ella  9^.  mhU 


23880 


o 


Cable  of  Contents 


Introduction 

Page 

xiii 

Home,  Sweet  Home 

3 

Old  Folks  at  Home 

35 

Dixie 

59 

Ben  Bolt 

8i 

The  Star-Spangled  Banner 

lOI 

Yankee  Doodle,  Hail  Columbia  and 

America 

125 

Some  War  Songs 

155 

JList  of  3mstvations 

Page 

The  Payne  cottage  at  Easthampton,  Long 
Island,  immortalized  in  "Home,  Sweet 

Home  Frontispiece 

John  Howard  Payne  Facing     4 

Miss  A.  Maria  Tree,  the  first  person  who 
sang  "Home,  Sweet  Home"  26 

Facsimile  of  an  author's  copy  of  "  Home, 
Sweet  Home"  30 

Stephen  Collins  Foster  36 

Christy,  the  famous  minstrel  who  first 
sang  "Old  Folks  at  Home"  40 

The  Foster  homestead,  near  Pittsburg        46 

Daniel  Decatur  Emmett  60 

"Dan"  Emmett,  in  old  age  66 

The  Emmett  cottage  at  Mount  Vernon, 
Ohio  70 

Facsimile  of  an  author's  copy  of  "  Dixie"     76 

Thomas  Dunn  English,  about  1845  82 

Thomas  Dunn  English,  in  old  age  90 

Facsimile  of  an  author's  copy  of  "Ben 
Bolt"  96 


JLijSt  of  3IUU)Stmtionj5 


Francis  Scott  Key  102 

Key's  grave  at  Frederick,  Maryland,  over 
which  the  flag  floats  106 

The  Star-Spangled  Banner  which  inspired 
the  song  112 

Fort  McHenry,  Baltimore  118 

"Yankee  Doodle."  From  the  painting  by 
A.  M.  Willard  138 

Francis  Hopkinson  142 

Samuel  Francis  Smith  Z48 

John  Brown  156 

Julia  Ward  Howe  160 


3lntroDuctton 


ANY  are  the  songs  that  are 
popular — for  a  while.  Every 
spring  the  music  publishers 
are  on  the  lookout  for  the 
song-hit  of  the  coming  summer.  But 
apparently  it  is  destined  to  live  only 
through  that  summer,  if  that  long.  It 
disappears  as  completely  as  if  it  had 
never  been  written.  Another  and  an- 
other takes  its  place.  They  are  fleeting 
fancies  which,  for  a  while,  tickle  the 
ear  without  reaching  the  heart  of  the 
people. 

To  sink  deep  into  the  affections  of  a 
nation,  to  be  caught  up  eagerly  not 
only  by  those  who  first  hear  it,  but  also 
by  those  who  come  after,  and  thus 
to  be  handed  down  as  part  of  the 
popular  inheritance,  a  song  must  ap- 
peal in  a  direct,  simple  and  sponta- 
neous way  to  some  sentiment  that 
is  common  to  all  humanity,— love  of 

xiii 


3IntroDuctfott 


home,  of  mother,  of  country.  That  is 
one  universal  characteristic  of  the 
songs  which  live  on  from  generation  to 
generation.  And  there  is  another.  It  is 
their  freedom  from  immoral  sugges- 
tion. The  "common  people,"  as  we  are 
pleased  to  call  them,  reject  with  one 
accord  whatever  is  coarse  or  impure. 
The  *' topical  song"  of  to-day,  with  its 
suggestive  lines,  will  be  forgotten  to- 
morrow, because  the  "common  peo- 
ple"  decline  to  give  it  vogue.  The  words 
of  our  folk-songs  may  be  common- 
place, but  otherwise  they  are  wholly 
unobjectionable;  and  the  melody  of  a 
popular  song  that  lives,  though  simple, 
never  is  trivial. 

This  attitude  on  the  part  of  the  peo- 
ple goes  far  to  explain  the  seemingly 
singular  fact  that  comparatively  few 
popular  songs,  which  have  survived, 
celebrate  the  love  affairs  of  young  men 
and  women.  There  seems  a  reluctance 
to  accept  such  songs  permanently,  as 
if  there  were  something  immodest  in 

xiv 


SIntroDuctfon 


proclaiming  sentiments  that  should 
be  whispered  in  the  ear  of  only  one  per- 
son. The  folk-songs-  that  have  gained 
the  strongest  hold  are  those  which 
voice  a  vague  regret  for  something 
once  dear  and  still  fondly  remembered. 
Judging  by  comparative  popularity, 
I  should  say  that  the  sentiment  most 
deeply  implanted  in  the  human  heart 
is  love  of  home.  In  times  of  great  ex- 
citement, especially  when  war  is  immi- 
nent or  in  progress,  this  sentiment  may 
be  replaced  by  patriotism.  But  the  old 
home  feeling  returns  sooner  or  later. 
Probably  the  most  widely  known  song 
wherever  the  English  tongue  is  spoken 
is  "Home,  Sweet  Home;"  while  "Old 
Folks  at  Home"  is  a  close  second. 
That  these  songs  strike  a  chord  com- 
mon to  humanity  is  shown  by  the  fur- 
ther fact  that  they  are  sung  on  the  Con- 
tinent also.  Stephen  Collins  Foster's 
touching  little  "plantation  melody" 
has  been  adapted  even  to  several  Asia- 
tic tongues.  Some  of  the  greatest  sing- 

XV 


3IntroDuct(on 


ers  have  not  disdained  to  include  these 
songs  in  their  repertories.  Jenny  Lind 
sang  "Home,  Sweet  Home;"  I  often 
have  heard  Patti  sing  it;  and  I  well 
remember  how  charmingly  Christine 
Nilsson  sang  "Old  Folks  at  Home." 
Excepting  one  or  two  Scotch  tunes 
which  have  the  characteristic  "Scotch 
snap"  (an  accentuation  that  admits  of 
some  fascinating  by-play  on  the  sing- 
er's part),  I  do  not  know  of  any  popular 
songsthat  have  been  similarly  honored. 
A  curious  and  highly  interesting  dif- 
ference may  be  discovered  between  the 
origin  of  the  folk-songs  of  old  coun- 
tries and  the  popular  songs  of  our  own 
land.  Most  of  the  foreign  songs  seem 
to  have  sprung  up  from  the  people; 
many  of  them  are  very  old,  and  their 
composers  are  unknown.  They  "just 
growed;"  and,  indeed,  the  whole  idea 
of  a  folk-song  seems  to  preclude  any- 
thing like  formality  in  its  origin.  Yet 
the  majority  of  American  popular 
songs  were  deliberately  composed, 

xvi 


fntroDuctfon 


copyrighted  and  published,  and  as  if 
to  make  even  a  single  exception  to 
this  rule  impossible,  it  happens  that 
the  melody  to  which  "Home,  Sweet 
Home"  afterwards  was  set,  was  pub- 
lished under  copyright  protection  in 
England  early  in  the  last  century. 
Nevertheless  there  is  nothing  formal 
aboutthesound  or  effect  of  these  Amer- 
ican songs.  Their  appeal  to  the  pop- 
ular heart  was  immediate,  and  they 
travelled  across  seas,  as  if  by  "wire- 
less," years  before  Marconi  was  born. 
To-day  the  American  "coon"  or  "rag- 
time" song,  however  ephemeral,  is 
heard  in  England  and  on  the  Conti- 
nent almost  as  soon  as  here.  What 
Europe  has  sent  us  by  way  of  ex- 
change in  popular  songs  during  all 
these  years  is  almost  nil. 
Another  characteristic,  and  perhaps 
the  most  singular  one,  of  American 
popular  songs  is  that  most  of  them  have 
been  written  for  the  stage.  "Home, 
Sweet  Home"  was  heard  first  on  the 

xvii 


3Inttot)uctfon 


stage  of  the  Covent  Garden  Theatre, 
London.  "Old  Folks  at  Home,"  and  in 
fact  most  of  the  other  songs  by  Stephen 
Collins  Foster,  was  written  for  the 
Christy  minstrels.  "Dixie"  was  origi- 
nally a  walk-around  for  Dan  Bryant's 
minstrel  troupe ;  and  so  the  story  con- 
tinues to  the  present  day,  our  popular 
songs  still  being  written  and  composed 
with  an  eye  and  an  ear  for  stage  pro- 
duction. These  are  the  so-called  "in- 
terpolated" songs  of  comic  opera.  In- 
deed the  function  of  the  average  comic 
opera  composer  seems  reduced  to  sup- 
plying a  background  of  choruses, 
duets  and  finales.  The  manager  then 
arranges  with  some  popular  song 
writers  and  composers  for  two  or  three 
numbers,  which  are  counted  on  to 
make  the  "  hi  ts  "  of  the  piece.  Whether 
any  of  these  will  retain  their  vogue 
long  enough  to  become  what  I  may  call 
standard  popular  songs— be  perma- 
nently assured  of  a  place  in  the  hearts 
of  the  people — still  remains  to  be  seen. 


i^ome^  ^toeet  l^ome 


I 


The  world  has  literally  sung  my  song  un- 
til every  heart  is  familiar  with  its  me- 
lody, yet  I  have  been  a  wanderer  since 
my  boyhood :  John  Howard  Payne 


N  the  evening  of  May  8, 1823, 
at  the  Theatre  Royal,  Covent 
Garden,  London,  Miss  Maria 
Tree,  a  sister  of  the  famous 
actress,  Ellen  Tree,  gave  voice  to  a 
song  which  thrilled  the  audience  and 
since  has  reechoed  in  every  heart  in 
the  English-speaking  world  as  the 
song  that  better  than  any  other  ex- 
presses the  sentiment  of  "home."  The 
occasion  was  the  first  performance  of 
"Clari,  the  Maid  of  Milan,"  a  play  by 
John  Howard  Payne,  with  musical 
numbers  by  Henry  Rowley  Bishop,  and 
the  song  was  "Home,  Sweet  Home  " 
It  was  characteristic  of  the  "homeless 
bard  of  home,"  that  he  was  living  in 
Paris,  that  his  song  was  heard  first  in 
London,  while  the  home  he  sang  of  was 

3 


jfamoug  american  ^ongg 

a  little  cottage  in  Easthampton,  Long 
Island)  in  which  he  had  not  set  foot 
since  boyhood.  It  also  was  character- 
istic of  his  fate  that  although  "Home, 
Sweet  Home"  won  a  wealthy  husband 
for  the  singer,  and  earned  a  small  for- 
tune for  the  theatre  and  the  publisher, 
it  left  Payne  little  or  no  better  off  than 
he  had  been  before.  The  song  had  that 
valuable  theatrical  quality  profession- 
ally known  as  "thrills,"  but  these  did 
not  extend  to  the  author's  pocket- 
book.  He  had  sold  "Clari"  for  a  lump 
sum,  had  no  interest  in  the  publishing 
rights;  while  as  to  fame — the  publisher 
did  not  even  think  it  worth  while  to 
put  Payne's  name  on  the  title-page! 

It  is  said  sometimes  that  Bishop's 
melody,  not  Payne's  words,  has  given 
"Home,  Sweet  Home"  its  vogue. That 
argument  can  easily  be  disposed  of. 
The  melody  was  not  new.  Bishop  had 
used  it  several  years  before  as  a  "Si- 
cilian air"  in  a  book  of  "Melodies  of 
Various  Nations,"  where  he  had  set  it 
4 


JOHN    HOWARD    PAYNE 


l^ome,  ^toeet  l$omt 


to  words  by  Thomas  Haynes  Bayly, 
beginning  "To  the  home  of  my  child- 
hood in  sorrow  I  came."  This  was  a 
"home"  song;  a  leading  London  pub- 
lishing house,  Goulding,  D'Almaine, 
Potter  &  Co.,  brought  out  the  book 
under  the  distinguished  patronage  of 
H.  R.  H.  The  Duchess  of  Gloucester, 
the  Princess  Sophia,  and  others ;  but 
the  melody  then  failed  to  carry  the 
song  into  every  heart  which  it  did 
when  set  to  Payne's  words.  For  every 
person  who  has  heard  of  "To  the 
Home  of  my  Childhood"  a  million 
know  "Home,  Sweet  Home."  But  for 
Payne's  lines  the  tune  would  have 
been  forgotten  long  ago.  Together 
they  make  a  simple,  direct  appeal  to 
one  of  the  most  universal  sentiments 
in  the  human  breast.  Each  needs  the 
other.  They  go  hand  in  hand,  words 
and  music,  — the  song  and  the  soul  of 
the  song.  Therefore,  why  endeavor  to 
draw  fine  distinctions  between  the  re- 
spective merits  of  Payne's  lyric  and 

5 


{ffamoug  amertcan  ^ongjEi 

Bishop's  air?  In  happy  union  they  have 
survived  the  vicissitudes  of  more  than 
seventy-five  years.  They  seem  de- 
stined for  immortaHty.  Whole  libraries 
of  intellectual  volumes  have  been  for- 
gotten, tons  of  vocal  scores  have  been 
sold  for  waste  paper.  The  same  pro- 
cess of  elimination  will  continue,  leav- 
ing one  book,  one  score  out  of  thou- 
sands to  survive.  But  a  simple  little 
poem  by  a  homesick  American  and  set 
to  music  by  a  second-rate  English  com- 
poser, lives  on,  because,  forsooth,  the 
author  let  us  know  that  he  was  home- 
sick by  describing  that  longing  which 
every  one  of  us  has  experienced  at 
some  moment  in  his  life.  After  all,  the 
literature  which  attracts  us  most  is 
that  in  which  we  ourselves  are  repro- 
duced, just  as  in  a  picture  gallery  in 
which  our  own  portrait  is  hung  we  look 
for  that  first.  Because  the  words  of 
"Home,  Sweet  Home"  echo,  and  its 
music  reechoes,  a  sentiment  that  is  at 
once  touching  and  universal,  words 
6 


l$omt,  ^t^eet  l^ome 


and  music  united  form  that  rare  thing, 
the  popular  song  that  survives.  After 
the  elect  have  settled  upon  the  great 
names  in  literature  and  music,  the 
lowly  reach  out  for  their  own. 
To  the  general  public  John  Howard 
Payne  is  known  only  through  his  fa- 
mous poem.  There  may  be  a  vague  im- 
pression that  his  life  was  one  of  many 
vicissitudes;  that  his  fortunes  often 
were  at  a  low  ebb ;  that  the  poet  who 
sang  so  tenderly  of  home  was  for  many 
years  an  exile;  that  he  died  in  a  foreign 
land;  and  that,  even  after  death,  his 
wandering  did  not  cease,  his  remains 
having  been  transferred  many  years 
later  from  what  was  to  have  been  his 
last  resting-place  to  a  grave  in  his  na- 
tive land.  But  how  many  people  are 
aware  that  for  many  years,  and  despite 
his  ups-and-downs,  Payne  was  a  pro- 
minent figure  on  the  stage  both  as 
actor  and  playwright,  and  the  first 
American  to  make  a  reputation  abroad 
in  either  capacity?  He  was  the  author 

7 


ifamoujs  american  ^ongis 

of  the  tragedy  of  "Brutus,"  which  Ed- 
mund Kean  produced  in  London  with 
great  success,  which  was  a  favorite 
piece  with  Edwin  Forrest,  and  which, 
remodelled,  might  even  to-day  be  ta- 
ken into  a  tragedian's  repertory — if 
there  is  a  tragedian.  The  last  person 
I  saw  act  it  was  the  late  John  Mc- 
Cullough.  All  told,  Payne  wrote  and 
adapted  about  fifty  pieces  for  the  stage 
and  he  was  the  author  of  other  poems 
besides  **Home,  Sweet  Home."  As  an 
actor  he  was  the  first  youthful  prodigy 
this  country  produced,  —  "the  young 
American  Roscius," — and  one  of  the 
sad  features  of  his  career  was  that 
"  Mr."  Payne  could  not  sustain  the  re- 
putation made  by  "Master"  Payne. 
The  Paynes  are  of  old  American  stock. 
John  Howard  Payne's  direct  ances- 
tors were  among  the  earliest  settlers 
at  Eastham,  Massachusetts,  where 
the  name  appears  as  far  back  as  1622. 
Robert  Treat  Paine,  a  signer  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  in  spite 
8 


1$omty  ^tpeet  l^ome 

of  the  slight  difference  in  the  spelling 
of  his  name,  belonged  to  the  same  fa- 
mily. William  Payne,  the  poet's  father, 
was  a  tutor  in  several  wealthy  Boston 
families.  He  married  twice.  His  first 
wife,  who  died  soon  after  marriage,  was 
a  Miss  Lucy  Taylor,  whom  he  met  at 
Barnstable.  Then  he  married  Sarah 
Isaacs,  whose  father  was  a  convert 
from  the  Jewish  faith  and  who  resided 
in  Easthampton,  New  York.  There  the 
elder  Payne  settled  and  was  made 
principal  of  Clinton  Academy,  erected 
by  Governor  DeWitt  Clinton.  John 
Howard  Payne  was  born  of  this  se- 
cond marriage  on  June  9, 1791,  in  New 
York ;  but  the  greater  part  of  his  early 
childhood  was  spent  in  the  picturesque 
Long  Island  town,  which  made  an  in- 
delible impression  on  his  memory.  The 
house  in  which  the  Paynes  lived  and 
which  thepoetimmortalizedin"Home, 
Sweet  Home"  still  stands. 
William  Payne  was  an  admirable 
elocutionist,  and  this  gift,  descending 

9 


famous  american  ^ongg 

to  the  son,  took  the  turn  of  a  passion 
for  the  stage.  This  passion  became  so 
manifest  that  his  parents  in  alarm  sent 
him  to  New  York  to  clerk  it,  hoping 
that  this  prosaic  occupation  would 
crush  his  theatrical  ambition.  But  this 
would  not  down.  H  e  spent  all  the  money 
he  could  spare  on  the  theatre  and  also 
started  a  dramatic  paper,  "The  Thes- 
pian Mirror."  He  was  then  but  four- 
teen years  old,  yet  the  articles  in  the 
"Mirror"  were  so  ably  written  that 
they  attracted  much  attention  and 
the  "Evening  Post"  announced  that 
it  would  reprint  one  of  them.  This 
alarmed  Payne,  who  feared  that  it 
might  result  in  his  family's  discover- 
ing what  he  was  doing.  Accordingly, 
he  called  on  the  editor  of  the  "Post," 
William  Coleman,  who  was  amazed  to 
find  in  the  author  of  the  article  which 
had  struck  him  so  forcibly  a  mere  boy. 
Payne  was  a  handsome  lad;  and  his 
talents,  combined  with  the  agreeable 
personal  impression  he  had  made,  in- 
xo 


J^ome,  ^tDeet  J^ome 


duced  Mr.  Coleman  to  interest  him- 
self in  raising  a  fund,  to  which  a  Mr. 
Seaman,  another  warm  admirer,  con- 
tributed liberally,  with  the  object  of 
sending  him  to  Union  College,  Sche- 
nectady, New  York.  He  was  taken 
there  by  Charles  Brockden  Brown,  the 
novelist.  His  literary  aspirations  led 
him  to  start  a  college  paper  called 

"The  Pastime,"  which  became  popu- 
lar with  the  students,  and  he  was  a 
mainstay  in  college  theatricals,  play- 
ing among  other  parts  the  female  rdle 
of  Lodoiska  in  "Pulaski." 

To  go  on  the  stage  still  was  his  domi- 
nant ambition,  and  events  so  shaped 
themselves  that  it  was  gratified.  His 
mother  died,  and  financial  misfortune 
overtook  his  father.  A  stage  ddbut,  if 
successful,  seemed  to  offer  the  quick- 
est means  of  the  youth's  becoming 
self-supporting,  and  William  Payne 
withdrew  his  opposition.  February  24, 
1809,  before  he  was  seventeen  years 
old,  John  Howard  Payne  made  his  first 

iz 


jfamoug  amertcan  ^ongg 

appearance  in  public  at  the  Park  Thea- 
tre, New  York,  as  Young  Norval  in 
Holmes's  "Douglas."  The  character  of 
the  young  Highlander,  "who  fed  his 
flocks  upon  the  Grampian  Hill,"  was 
popular  in  those  days,  and  even  twenty 
years  later  Forrest  selected  it  for  his 
d^but.  Payne's  handsome  locks,  his 
lithe,  agile  figure,  his  mobile  features, 
and  his  spontaneity  made  the  event  an 
immense  success.  On  March  14,  when 
he  appeared  as  Hamlet,  the  house  held 
fourteen  hundred  dollars.  He  played 
with  similar  success  in  Boston  and 
Baltimore,  where  at  his  benefit  seats 
sold  as  high  as  fifty  dollars. 
In  January,  1813,  Payne  sailed  from 
New  York  to  try  his  fortune  on  the 
English  stage.  The  passage  occupied 
twenty-two  days.  War  was  pending 
between  the  United  States  and  Eng- 
land; and  when  the  ship  arrived  at 
Liverpool,  Payne  was  jailed  for  a  fort- 
night before  being  allowed  to  proceed 
to  London.  Through  Benjamin  West, 
12 


^omt,  ^toeet  !^ome 


President  of  the  Royal  Academy,  he  se- 
cured an  engagement  at  Drury^Lane, 
where,  June  4, 1813,  Young  Norval  was 
played  "by  a  Young  Gentleman  (be- 
ing his  first  appearance  in  London)." 
The  young  gentleman  was  Payne.  He 
scored  a  success.  Later  he  played  Ro- 
meo, with  James  W.  Wallack  (after- 
wards the  founder  of  Wallack's  The- 
atre, New  York,  and  the  father  of  Les- 
ter Wallack)  as  the  Prince.  At  Birming- 
ham, EUiston,  the  theatrical  manager, 
played  an  amusing  trick  on  Payne. 
Elliston's  company  was  announced  to 
appear  in  "Richard  IIL"The  manager 
was  anxious  that  Payne  should  play 
the  title  role,  but  the  young  American 
declined.  Elliston  then  asked  Payne, 
on  the  plea  of  being  very  busy,  to  oblige 
him  by  taking  charge  of  the  rehearsal 
for  a  day,  and  persuaded  him  to  this. 
Payne  rehearsed  the  company  long 
and  arduously.  He  looked  in  vain  for 
Elliston,  who  failed  to  put  in  an  ap- 
pearance at  the  theatre.  But  imagine 

13 


the  young  actor's  surprise,  after  dis- 
missing the  rehearsal  and  going  out  on 
the  street,  to  find  the  city  placarded 
with  announcements  of  the  perfor- 
mance, stating  that  Richard  would 
be  played  by  "the  celebrated  Ameri- 
can Roscius,  Mr.  Howard  Payne"!  Of 
course  there  was  nothing  left  for  the 
"celebrated  American  Roscius"  to  do 
but  to  submit  and  become  the  amused 
victim  of  EUiston's  clever  ruse. 
All  told,  Payne's  career  as  an  actor  in 
England  lasted  five  years  out  of  the 
nineteen  which  elapsed  before  he  re- 
turned to  America.  His  last  appear- 
ances were  as  Young Norval  and  Ham- 
let in  Birmingham  in  May,  1818.  When 
he  retired  he  had  played  in  England 
one  hundred  and  six  nights  and  acted 
twenty-two  characters.  But,  as  has 
been  the  unhappy  experience  of  so 
many  juvenile  prodigies,  he  had  lost 
that  lack  of  self-consciousness  and  the 
attractive  spontaneity  which  are  the 
great  charms  of  the  youthful  actor.  He 
14 


l^ome^  ^toeet  l^ome 


had  ceased  to  be  a  "Roscius." 

During  his  theatrical  career  in  Eng- 
land he  had  formed  a  large  circle  of 
friends  both  on  and  off  the  stage.  He 
knew  most  of  the  leading  English  ac- 
tors and  actresses  of  note  and  many 
literary  people.  Talma,  the  most  fa- 
mous French  actor  of  his  day,  had  been 
so  attracted  to  him  that,  when  he  came 
to  Paris,  he  secured  for  him  the  freedom 
of  the  Theatre  Frangais.  Among  his 
friends  inLondon  were  Coleridge,Shel- 
ley  and  Lamb,  and,  above  all,  Washing- 
ton Irving.  Indeed  a  strong  intimacy 
sprang  up  between  Irving  and  Payne. 
The  future  author  of  "The  Sketch- 
book" and  the  actor  and  playwright, 
who  was  to  be  remembered  not  by 
what  he  considered  his  great  produc- 
tions, but  by  one  short  poem,  had  a 
"Box  and  Cox"  arrangement  between 
London  and  Paris.  Engaging  lodgings 
in  both  cities  they  exchanged  them  as 
circumstances  required,  Payne:remov- 
ing  to  the  Paris  rooms  when  Irving 

15 


jTamoug  amertcan  ^ongg 

came  to  London,  and  vice  versa.  It  is 
interesting  to  note  that  at  this  time 
Irving,  whose  work  is  in  no  wise  as- 
sociated with  the  theatre,  was  coquet- 
ting with  the  stage.  When  Payne  found 
it  necessary  to  give  up  acting,  his  do- 
minant dramatic  impulse  led  him  to 
become  a  playwright.  In  Paris  Irving 
would  note  the  French  successes  and 
let  his  friend  know  of  them  or  forward 
MSS.  and  printed  copies  to  London, 
where  Payne  would  adapt  them.  There 
is  in  the  possession  of  Payne's  collate- 
ral descendants  a  large  batch  of  un- 
published letters  from  Irving  in  one  of 
which  he  mentions  a  play  he  has  writ- 
ten, asking  Payne  to  submit  it  to  one  of 
his  managerial  friends,  but  to  conceal 
the  authorship.  This  was  indeed  so  ef- 
fectually concealed  that,  if  the  play  ever 
was  produced,  the  fact  is  not  known. 
Aspirations  as  a  playwright  certainly 
reveal  Irving  in  a  new  light. 
Payne's  first  work  for  the  stage  was 
an  adaptation  entitled  "The  Maid  and 
i6 


i^ome^  ^toeet  J^ome 


the  Magpie,"  for  which  he  received  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  from  the  Cov- 
ent  Garden  management.  His  next  ad- 
aptation, "Accusation,"  was  produced 
at  Drury  Lane,  with  James  W.Wallack 
in  the  leading  role.  So  exact  were  the 
scene  plots  indicated  by  Payne  and  so 
detailed  his  hints  regarding  the  stage 
"business"  that  the  rehearsals  occu- 
pied only  ten  days.  His  "Brutus"  was 
produced  by  Edmund  Kean  at  Drury 
Lane,  December  3, 1818.  It  was  staged 
by  Payne  himself  and  with  scenery,  pro- 
perties and  costumes  designed  by  him. 
After  running  twenty-three  nights  it 
had  to  give  way  to  another  piece  which 
had  been  contracted  for,  but  after- 
wards ran  for  fifty-three  additional  per- 
formances, seventy-six  in  all,  —  a  long 
run  in  those  days.  Payne  had  intended 
to  act  the  role  of  Titus  himself,  but  this 
was  vetoed  by  the  management  on  the 
curious  ground  that  an  actor  should 
not  appear  in  his  own  play,  — a  theory 
which  surely  did  not  obtain  in  Shake- 

17 


speare's  day,  and  which,  if  in  force  now, 
would  have  prevented  our  seeing  Wil- 
liam Gillette  in  ''Secret  Service"  or 
"Sherlock  Holmes." 

Payne's  was  not  the  first  play  with 
Brutus  for  the  title  role  and  he  was 
accused  of  plagiarism,  although  he 
had  taken  care  to  give  credit  to  seve- 
ral authors  for  suggestions  which  he 
had  utilized,  quite  an  unusual  instance 
of  honesty  on  the  part  of  a  writer  for 
the  stage.  His  friend  Irving  promptly 
came  to  his  defence.  ''Why,"  wrote 
Irving,  "Payne  has  given  credit  for 
his  play  to  six  authors  from  whom  he 
has  taken  hints;  but  because  he  has 
included  a  seventh,  from  whom  he  has 
borrowed  nothing,  they  have  raised 
against  him  a  hue  and  cry  for  plagia- 
rism." 

An  attempt  at  management  on 
Payne's  part,  for  which  he  engaged 
the  Sadler's-Wells  Theatre,  followed. 
He  was  not  a  business  man,  and  his 
brief  experience  as  a  manager  landed 
i8 


I^ome,  ^toeet  l^ome 


him  in  the  debtors'  jail.  There  he  re- 
ceived by  chance  from  Paris  a  couple 
of  plays.  In  one  of  these,  "Therese, 
the  Orphan  of  Geneva,"  he  saw  such 
great  opportunities  that  in  three  days 
he  had  made  an  adaptation  of  it  and 
sent  it  to  Drury  Lane,  where  it  was 
rushed  on  the  stage  in  less  than  a  fort- 
night, Payne,  in  disguise,  attending 
some  of  the  rehearsals  and  the  first 
night.  James  W.  Wallack  and  the 
beautiful  Miss  Kelley  took  the  lead- 
ing parts. 

The  success  of  *'Therese"  enabled 
Payne  to  pay  his  debts  and  get  out  of 
jail,  and  also  led  the  rival  management 
at  Covent  Garden  to  send  him  to  Paris 
to  watch  for  theatrical  successes  and 
make  rapid  adaptations  of  them.  In 
October,  1822,  he  wrote  from  Paris  to 
Henry  Rowley  Bishop,  who  was  com- 
posing the  music  for  Covent  Garden 
pieces,  stating  that  he  would  make 
three  adaptations,  "Ali  Pacha,"  "The 
Two  Galley  Slaves"  and  "Clari,"  for 

19 


two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  This  is 
the  first  mention  of  **Clari,"  one  song 
in  which  was  to  make  him  famous. 
''Clari"  really  was  more  than  an  adap- 
tation. In  its  original  form  it  was  merely 
a  ballet,  from  which  Payne  could  not 
have  derived  more  than  the  plot.  In 
turning  it  into  a  play  with  songs  and 
choruses  (it  was  announced  at  Covent 
Garden  as  an  "opera"),  Payne  wrote 
original  dialogue  and  verses.  Clari,  the 
heroine,  elopes  with  a  duke,  but  is  led 
to  return  to  her  parents  by  hearing  a 
company  of  strolling  players  sing  one 
of  her  native  songs,  which  in  Payne's 
version  is  "Home,  Sweet  Home." 
The  poem  as  originally  written  is 
neither  as  simple  nor  as  affecting  as 
it  became  in  "Clari."  It  seems  to  me 
that  the  original  form  of  a  lyric  that 
is  perhaps  more  widely  known  than 
any  other  in  the  English  language  is 
well  worth  giving.  Here  it  is: 

'Mid  pleasures  and  palaces  though  we  may  roam, 
Be  it  ever  so  humble,  there's  no  place  like  home! 
20 


^omt,  ^toeet  f  ome 


A  charm  from  the  sky  seems  to  hallow  us  there, 

(Like  the  love  of  a  mother, 

Surpassing  all  other,) 
Even  stronger  than  time,  and  more  deep  with  despair. 

An  exile  from  home,  splendor  dazzles  in  vain ! 
O,  give  me  my  lowly  thatched  cottage  again  I 
The  birds  and  the  lambkins  that  came  at  my  call,  — 
Those  who  named  me  with  pride,  — 
Those  who  played  by  my  side,  — 
Give  me  them  1  with  the  innocence  dearer  than  all ! 
The  joys  of  the  palaces  through  which  I  roam 
Only  swell  my  heart's  anguish.  —  There 's  no  place 
like  Homel 

It  will  be  seen  that  "Home,  Sweet 
Home"  became  what  it  is,  not  by  ela- 
boration, but  by  elimination.  The  ori- 
ginal lacked  the  familiar  refrain,  and 
while  it  contains  many  of  the  essen- 
tials of  the  poem  as  we  know  it  now, 
does  not  make  nearly  so  direct  and 
strong  an  appeal  as  the  shorter  and 
much  simplified  version  which,  fortu- 
nately for  himself  and  for  us,  Payne 
saw  fit  to  make  when  he  incorporated 
itin"Clari." 

The  "Home,  Sweet  Home"  which 
became  famous  in  a  night,  which  has 
reechoed  since  in  millions  of  hearts, 

21 


famous  american  ^ongg 

and  with  which  great  singers  Hke 
Jenny  Lind  and  Patti  have  not  dis- 
dained to  move  their  audiences,  I  am 
able  through  the  courtesy  of  the  poet's 
grandnephew,  Thatcher  T.  Payne  Lu- 
quer,  to  give  in  John  Howard  Payne's 
own  handwriting.  The  poem  is  as  fol- 
lows: 

'Mid  pleasures  and  palaces  though  we  may  roam, 
Be  it  ever  so  humble,  there's  no  place  like  Homel 
A  charm  from  the  sky  seems  to  hallow  us  tliere, 
Which,  seek  through  the  world,  is  ne'er  met  with 
elsewhere  I 

Home,  home!  sweet,  sweet  Homel 

There's  no  place  like  Home! 

There's  no  place  like  Home ! 

An  exile  from  Home,  splendour  dazzles  in  vain!  — 
Oh,  give  me  my  lowly  thatch'd  cottage  again !  — 
The  birds  singing  gaily  that  came  at  my  call  — 
Give  me  them !  —  and  the  peace  of  mind  dearer  than  all  1 

Home,  home  1  sweet,  sweet  Home  1 

There's  no  place  like  Home! 

There's  no  place  like  Home! 

Whether  the  melody  really  is  a  Sici- 
lian air  or  original  with  Bishop  is  a 
point  which  would  require  too  much 
space  to  discuss  here.  I  am  inclined 
to  believe  it  was  original.  There  is  a 

22 


l^ome,  ^toeet  l^ome 


story  that  when  Bishop  was  complet- 
ing the  "  Melodies  of  Various  Nations" 
the  publishers  asked  him  to  include  a 
Sicilian  air,  and  having  none  at  hand, 
he  composed  the  melody  himself.  This 
may  well  be  true.  No  popular  Sicilian 
air  resembling  it  can  be  traced,  and 
when  Donizetti  wanted  a  typical  Eng- 
lish air  for  his  "Anna  Bolena"  he  se- 
lected** Home,  Sweet  Home."  It  hardly 
is  credible  that  an  Italian  composer 
would  not  have  recognized  a  popular 
song  of  his  own  country. 
The  anecdote  that  Payne  heard  an 
Italian  peasant  girl  singing  the  me- 
lody, jotted  it  down  and  sent  it  to 
Bishop,  is  a  fabrication,  based  in  part, 
it  would  appear,  on  a  misquoted  pas- 
sage from  one  of  Payne's  letters.  What- 
ever maybe  said  pro  or  con,  the  fact  re- 
mains that  the  air  to  which  "Home, 
Sweet  Home"  is  sung  appeared,  long 
before  "Clari"  was  written  and  prob- 
ably before  Payne  and  Bishop  even 
were  acquainted,  in  Bishop's  "Melo- 

23 


jfamoug  amerfcan  ^ongiei 

dies  of  Various  Nations."  Most  likely 
when  the  composer  read  over  ^Xlari," 
he  perceived  the  adaptability  of  the  air 
to  the  poem,  and  used  it.  Another  bit 
of  fiction  regarding  Payne  is  that  he 
was  living  in  a  Paris  garret  when  he 
wrote  ''Home,  Sweet  Home."  In  point 
of  fact  he  was  busily  engaged  making 
adaptations,  for  which  he  received 
more  than  very  fair  prices  for  those 
days  and  he  had  comfortable  lodg- 
ings. In  fact,  like  many  persons  of 
artistic  temperament,  Payne  did  not 
know  how  to  keep  money  and  was  apt 
to  live  somewhat  better  than  he  could 
afford. 

Homesick,  however,  he  was;  and 
when  he  wrote  his  poem,  he  penned 
it  from  the  depths  of  a  longing  heart. 
For  about  the  time  he  was  engaged  on 
"Clari"  he  expressed  his  yearnings  in 
a  letter  to  his  brother  Thatcher: 

"My  yearnings  toward  Home,"  he 
wrote,  ''become  stronger  as  the  term 
of  my  exile  lengthens.  I  long  to  see  all 
24 


I^ome,  ^toeet  l^ome 


your  faces  and  hear  all  your  voices. 
'T  would  do  me  good  to  be  scolded  by 
Lucy,  and  see  Anna  look  pretty  and 
simple  and  sentimental. . . . 

"I  feel  the  want  of  some  of  you — 
parts  of  myself — in  this  strange  world 
— for  though  I  am  naturalized  to  va- 
gabondium,  still  it  is  but  vagabond- 
ism. I  long  for  a  Home  about  me." 

After  the  success  of  ^'Clari"  he  was 
in  better  spirits  and  wrote  to  Anna 
(in  May,  1823),  telling  her  that  in  order 
to  work  more  undisturbed,  he  had 
taken  a  country  house  at  Versailles, 
which,  with  a  large  garden,  cost  him 
only  fifty  dollars  until  January  i.  "I 
am  looking  for  a  cat,  rabbits,  a  large 
dog,  pigeons  and  a  cock  and  hens, 
pour  faire  mon  menage. . . .  My  best 
regards  to  all  the  'first  loves '  you  men- 
tion ;  and  assure  them  that  I  take  as  a 
great  unkindness  their  having  mar- 
ried my  friends,  since  it  puts  it  entirely 
out  of  my  power  to  prove  my  sincerity 
by  making  them  widows." 

25 


if  among  amertcan  ^ongg 

An  early  edition  of  "Clari"  is  to  be 
found  at  the  Astor  branch  of  the  New 
York  Public  Library.  It  is  a  24mo,  and 
shows  the  marks  of  age  and  of  much 
handling  before  having  been  deposited 
in  the  library.  Although  it  is  undated, 
it  appears  to  have  been  printed  about 
1829.  The  title-page  reads:  "Clari,  or 
the  Maid  of  Milan.  An  Opera  in  two 
acts.  By  John  Howard  Payne,  Esq.  Au- 
thor of  Brutus,  The  Lancers,  Ali  Pacha, 
Charles  the  Second,  etc.  Embellished 
with  a  fine  engraving,  by  Mr.  Bonner, 
from  a  Drawing,  taken  in  the  Theatre, 
by  Mr.  R.  Cruikshank.  London.  John 
Cumberland." 

Three  casts  are  given  —  the  original 
with  Miss  A.  M.  Tree  as  Clari,  that  of 
1826  with  Miss  Paton,  and  that  of 
1829  with  Miss  Foote. 

There  also  are  some  introductory  re- 
marks signed  **D G,"  who  passes 

the  following  comment  upon  the  three 
Claris : 

"Miss  Paton's  singing  in  *  Clari'  was 
26 


MISS   A.    MARIA   TREE,    THE    FIRST    PERSON    WHO   SANG 
"HOME,    SWEET    HOME" 


J^ome,  ^toeet  !^ome 


faultless,  but  she  failed  to  impart  to 
her  acting  that  fine  sensibility  which 
distinguished  the  performance  of  Miss 
M.  Tree.  It  was  this  young  lady  who 
first  brought  the  beautiful  air  of 
^Home!  Sweet  Home!'  into  such  high 
esteem, — an  air  to  which  every  ge- 
nerous heart  beats  a  response.  Miss 
Foote,  in  Xlari,'  is  pretty  and  grace- 
ful." 

Payne  wrote  two  additional  stanzas 
to  "Home,  Sweet  Home,"  under  cir- 
cumstances which  were  narrated  to 
General  James  Grant  Wilson  by  Fitz- 
Greene  Halleck,  and  which  General 
Wilson  gives  in  his  book  "William 
CuUen  Bryant  and  His  Friends:" 

"Many  years  ago,"  said  Halleck  to 
the  writer,  "afriend  of  minewas  dining 
in  London  with  an  American  lady,  the 
wife  of  an  opulent  banker,  a  member 
of  the  house  of  Baring  Brothers.  Dur- 
ing the  evening  Mr.  Payne  called  and 
presented  her  with  a  copy  of  *Home, 
Sweet  Home,'  set  to  music,  and  with 

27 


jfamoug  amertcan  ^ongg 

two  additional  verses  addressed  to 
her,  which  I  never  have  seen  in  print." 
The  lines  are  as  follows: 

To  us  in  despite  of  the  absence  of  years, 
How  sweet  the  remembrance  of  home  still  appears  1 
From  allurements  abroad,  which  but  flatter  the  eye. 
The  unsatisfied  heart  turns  and  says  with  a  sigh, 

Home,  home!  sweet,  sweet  Home  I 

There's  no  place  like  Home  I 

There 's  no  place  like  Home ! 

Your  exile  is  blest  with  all  fate  can  bestow. 

But  mine  has  been  checkered  with  many  a  woe  1 

Yet  though  different  our  fortunes,  our  thoughts  are  the 

same. 
And  both,  as  we  think  of  Columbia,  exclaim. 

Home,  home!  sweet,  sweet  Home! 

There's  no  place  like  Home  1 

There's  no  place  like  Home  I 

"Clari"  was  given  in  this  country  soon 
after  its  first  performance  in  London. 
For  many  years  it  remained  a  favorite 
piece,  and  among  the  distinguished 
actresses  who  were  heard  in  it  here 
were  Ellen  Tree  and  Matilda  Heron. 
But  with  changing  taste  in  theatrical 
matters  it  disappeared  from  the  stage. 
In  February,  1873,  however,  more  than 
twenty  years  after  its  author's  death, 
28 


!^ome,  ^toeet  l^ome 


"Clari"  was  given  at  the  Brooklyn 
Academy  of  Music,  largely  as  a  result 
of  the  efforts  of  Payne's  biographer, 
Gabriel  Harrison.  John  Gilbert,  E.  M. 
Holland  and  Phillis  Glover  (as  Clari) 
were  in  the  cast,  and  about  two  thou- 
sand dollars  were  realized  toward  a 
monument  in  Prospect  Park,  which 
was  unveiled  in  September  of  the  same 
year. 
Payne  left  England  and  returned  to 
the  United  States  in  1832.  Ten  years 
later,  and  again  in  1851,  he  was  ap- 
pointed Consul  at  Tunis.  There  he 
died  April  9,  1852,  far  from  home  and 
with  no  relative  or  friend  at  his  bed- 
side. He  was  buried  in  St.  George's 
Cemetery,  overlooking  the  Bay  of  Tu- 
nis and  the  ruins  of  ancient  Carthage. 

Hands  of  the  stranger,  ring  the  mournful  knell  — 
Homeless  the  bard  who  sang  of  home  so  well  1 

It  seemed  as  if  even  after  death  mis- 
chance must  pursue  him.  For  in  the 
inscription  on  his  gravestone  both  his 
birthplace  and  the  date  of  his  death 

29 


were  wrongly  given.  Moreover,  in  or- 
der to  settle  the  debts  he  left  behind, 
amounting  to  about  seven  hundred 
dollars  and  incurred  mainly  in  improv- 
ing the  Consulate  building,  his  effects, 
including  his  library  and  many  MSS., 
were  sold.  A  collection  of  MSS.  in 
bound  volumes,  an  autograph  album 
and  a  few  other  articles  were  not  ap- 
praised or  sold ;  and  subsequently  the 
album  was  offered  for  sale  in  New 
York  at  a  larger  price  than  the  sum 
total  of  his  debts.  Among  his  effects 
was  a  box  resembling  a  bound  volume 
and  stamped  *^The  Code  of  Texas."  It 
contained  two  Colt's  revolvers. 
In  1883  W.  W.  Corcoran,  who  when 
a  boy  had  seen  Payne  act,  had  the 
poet's  remains  transferred  from  Tu- 
nis to  Washington.  When  the  body 
reached  Washington  it  was  placed  in 
the  Corcoran  Art  Gallery.  On  June  9 
the  remains  were  reinterred  in  Oak 
Hill  Cemetery,  the  President  of  the 
United  States,  his  Cabinet,  and  a  mili- 
30 


i^^ilx34    1,«,    yt^«-t>u    .<&-;^     cJ/On-^^     f 


^,       y^-"^          l-^J^          -J-.~y          ■Cr-t.J-^            ttLa^t^viJ^       CrtdCtM-     0->-«^»>-'  ■  — 
—    t'A*     A^>-^      ■ai-^^y^-^^y       o,«.-l-^         ■Kfcii.<?—     C<«,~»^ji-    •«,-<^*t*7-      f»t-«  

c/itr^*-^  ,     A-c-**'-*-     '      \^u^-^^^^     t/u/*e*-^  iJro-y^'^M.  . 


FACSIMILE  OF  AN    AUTHOR'S  COPY   OF 
"  HOME,    SWEET    HOME" 


i^ome,  ^toeet  !^ome 


tary  escort  forming  part  of  the  cor- 
tege, —  a  contrast  to  the  poet's  sad  life 
and  lonely  death  which  conveys  its 
own  commentary.  But,  at  least,  they 
were  bringing  him  "home." 


31 


£Dlt)  jfolfejj  at  l^ome 


II 


4f 


£>U)  jFol&0  at  I^ome 


yf 


HORTLY  after  Herr  Wil- 
helmj,  the  great  German  vio- 
linist, reached  New  York,  in 
1878,  he  went  to  a  music  store 
and  asked  if  they  had  an  arrangement 
of  an  American  song  which  he  thought 
was  called  "Black  Jack." 
No— they  did  not  know  of  any  song 
of  that  title.  Was  Herr  Wilhelmj  sure 
it  was  correct? 

Thereupon  Herr  Wilhelmj  pursed  his 
lips  and  whistled  a  tune.  *'Ah!"  ex- 
claimed the  clerks;  "he  wants  'Old 
Black  Joe.'"  Much  to  the  virtuoso's 
gratification  it  was  quickly  forth- 
coming. 
"Old  Black  Joe"  was  written  and 
composed  by  Stephen  Collins  Foster, 
who  also  wrote  and  composed  "Old 
Folks  at  Home"  and  other  songs,  in 
all  about  one  hundred  and  sixty.  Many 
of  them  have  become  genuine  songs 

35 


famoug  american  ^ongg 

of  the  people,  and  the  most  popular, 
"Old  Folks  at  Home,"  has  been  trans- 
lated into  nearly  all  European  and 
several  Asiatic  languages.  Even  dur- 
ing Foster's  lifetime  his  music  was  on 
thousands,  perhaps  millions,  of  lips, 
but  the  people  who  sang  his  songs 
passed  the  man  by.  It  has  been  said 
with  justice  that  during  the  last  years 
of  his  life,  which  were  passed  in  New 
York,  the  most  familiar  sounds  he 
heard  about  him  were  strains  of  his 
own  music,  the  least  familiar  sight  a 
face  he  knew.  Now  he  is  recognized  — 
and,  after  the  way  of  the  world,  too  late 
for  it  to  prosper  him — as  having  pos- 
sessed positive  genius  for  the  invention 
of  simple  yet  tender  and  refined  melody 
which  has  not  been  without  its  influ- 
ence in  shaping  the  development  of 
musical  taste  in  this  country.  The  re- 
finement of  Foster's  melodic  invention 
is  an  important  factor.  Sometimes  a 
popular  air  is  the  starting-point  of  the 
formation  of  musical  taste.  It  may  be  a 
36 


STEPHEN  COLLINS  FOSTER 


flDlD  Jfolfiis  at  l^ome 


far  cry  from  "  Old  Folks  at  Home"  to 
appreciation  ofthe" Ninth  Symphony" 
or  Wagner  opera ;  but  it  would  be  a 
further  one  if  Foster  had  caught  popu- 
lar fancy  with  slap-dash,  vulgar  tunes 
instead  of  with  the  refined  and  gently 
melancholic  strains  of  his  best  pro- 
ductions. Doubtless  it  was  this  refine- 
ment and  tenderness  which  attracted 
Wilhelmj  to  the  air  he  asked  for — 
even  if  his  ignorance  of  English  led 
him  to  call  it  "Black  Jack." 

Foster  wrote  the  words  for  nearly  all 
his  songs.  They  are  not  remarkable  as 
poetry,  but  they  go  very  well  with  the 
music.  Moreover  they  express  senti- 
ments that  are  universal— love  of 
home,  of  mother,  of  wife,  of  sweetheart 
—sentiments  that  appeal  instantly  to 
the  popular  heart,  and  they  are  melo- 
dious and  easy  flowing.  Probably  not 
one  person  out  of  a  thousand,  if  so 
many,  had  heard  of  the  "Swanee  Rib- 
ber"  before  Foster's  "Old  Folks  at 
Home"  was  published,  and  but  for  that 

37 


jFamoug  American  ^ongg 

song,  the  stream  doubtless  still  would 
be  threadingits  way  to  the  Gulf  of  Mex- 
ico in  obscurity.  Howdidthe  composer 
chance  to  hit  upon  the  name  that  fits 
in  so  perfectly  with  the  verse  and  with 
the  sentiment  of  the  music? 

One  day  in  1851  Foster  entered  his 
brother  Morrison's  office  in  Pittsburg. 

** Morrison,"  he  said,  "I  've  got  a  new 
song,  and  I  want  the  name  of  some 
Southern  river  in  two  syllables  to  use 
in  it." 

His  brother  suggested  Yazoo.  That 
wouldn't  do.  Then  Pedee.  Foster 
would  n't  have  it.  Morrison  then  took 
down  an  atlas  from  his  shelf  and  opened 
it  on  his  desk  at  the  map  of  the  United 
States.  Together  the  two  brothers 
looked  over  it.  At  last  Morrison's  fin- 
ger stopped  at  a  little  river  in  Florida. 

"That's  it!  That's  it!"  Foster  ex- 
claimed delightedly.  "  Now  listen."  He 
hastily  scribbled  in  a  word  on  a  piece 
of  paper  he  had  in  his  hand,  and  then 
read  to  his  brother  the  lines  beginning, 
38 


i^lh  fom  at  ]^ome 


"Way  down  upon  de  Swanee  Ribber." 
Can  the  line  be  imagined  as  "Way 
down  upon  de  Yazoo  Ribber?"  or 
"Way  down  upon  the  Pedee  Ribber?" 
One  produces  an  eccentric,  the  other 
a  comic  effect,  whereas  "Swanee"  has 
the  melodious,  flowing  sound  that 
Foster  was  seeking.  The  song  has 
placed  a  halo  of  sentiment  over  the 
Swanee,  with  the  result  that  most  peo- 
ple who  see  it  are  disappointed.  'T  is 
the  river  of  song,  and  best  viewed 
through  the  delicate  mist  of  music. 

OLD  FOLKS  AT  HOME 

Way  down  upon  de  Swanee  Ribber, 

Far,  far  away, 
Dere  's  wha  ma  heart  is  turning  ebber, 

Dere  's  wha  de  old  folks  stay. 
All  up  and  down  de  whole  creation 

Sadly  I  roam, 
still  longing  for  de  old  plantation, 

And  for  de  old  folks  at  home. 

All  de  world  am  sad  and  dreary, 

Ebery  where  I  roam ; 
Oh,  darkeys,  how  my  heart  grows  weary, 

Far  from  de  old  folks  at  home ! 

All  round  de  little  farm  I  wander'd 
When  I  was  young, 

39 


jfamoujgj  american  ^onag 

Den  many  happy  days  I  squander'd, 

Many  de  songs  I  sung. 
When  I  was  playing  wid  my  brudder 

Happy  was  I, 
Oh  I  take  me  to  my  kind  old  mudder, 

Dere  let  me  live  and  die. 

One  little  hut  among  de  bushes, 

One  dat  I  love, 
Still  sadly  to  my  mem'ry  rushes, 

No  matter  where  I  rove. 
When  will  I  see  de  bees  a-humming 

All  round  de  comb? 
When  will  I  hear  de  banjo  tumming 

Down  in  my  good  old  home? 

About  the  time  Foster  composed  "  Old 
Folks  at  Home"  he  received  a  request 
from  Christy,  the  famous  Negro  min- 
strel, then  appearing  with  his  company 
in  New  York,  for  a  new  song  with  the 
right  to  sing  it  before  it  was  published. 
Christy  also  desired  to  have  at  least 
one  edition  bear  his  own  name  as  au- 
thor and  composer.  Foster  showed 
Christy's  letter  to  his  brother,  who 
drew  up  an  agreement  whereby  the 
minstrel  undertook  to  pay  five  hun- 
dred  dollars    for   the   privileges   he 

had  requested,  and  despatched  it  to 
40 


CHRISTY,    THE    FAMOUS    MINSTREL   WHO    FIRST   SANG 
"OLD    FOLKS   AT   HOME" 


mh  i[om  at  f  ome 


Christy,  who  sent  it  back,  duly  signed, 
by  return  mail.  This  explains  why 
Christy's  name  appears  on  the  title- 
page  of  the  first  edition  of  "Old  Folks 
at  Home." 

This  song  and  "Home,  Sweet  Home" 
probably  are  the  most  widely  known 
songs  in  the  English  language,  and  it 
is  a  singular  coincidence  that  both 
have  longing  for  home  as  their  under- 
lying sentiment.  "Old  Folks  at  Home" 
has  been  called  the  "song  of  the  home- 
sick" and  the  potency  of  its  appeal  is 
illustrated  by  an  anecdote.  During  the 
civil  war  a  Northern  regiment  had  its 
pay  so  long  delayed  that  most  of  the 
soldiers,  in  a  state  bordering  on  mu- 
tiny, broke  through  the  sentry  lines, 
made  for  a  town  near  camp  and  at  night 
returned  in  a  condition  of  riotous  in- 
ebriety. In  vain  the  officers  and  the  few 
men  who  had  remained  sober  tried  to 
subdue  the  bedlam  that  had  broken 
loose  and  bring  about  some  semblance 
of  order.  At  last,  when  even  the  colo- 

41 


iffamoujS  ametican  ^ongjs 

nel  had  been  defied,  the  bandmaster 
called  his  musicians  about  him,  spoke 
a  few  words,  and  the  next  moment  the 
strains  of  **01d  Folks  at  Home"  were 
heard  above  the  shouts  of  the  obstre- 
perous soldiers.  Within  twenty  min- 
utes the  half-drunken  crowd  had  wept 
itself  to  sleep.  It  was  a  wonderful  il- 
lustration of  the  power  that  lies  in 
a  melody  which  goes  straight  to  the 
heart. 
Stephen  Collins  Foster,  like  John 
Howard  Payne,  the  author  of  "Home, 
Sweet  Home,"  came  of  good  family; 
and,  like  Payne's  life,  his  too  was  un- 
fortunate, notwithstanding  bright  pro- 
spects in  youth.  His  father,  William 
Barclay  Foster,  was  a  general  mer- 
chant in  Pittsburg,  from  where  he  de- 
spatched goods  on  flatboats  down  the 
Ohio  and  Mississippi  rivers  to  New 
Orleans.  About  twice  a  year  he  made 
the  trip  himself,  sometimes  returning 
overland,  sometimes  by  vessel  to  New 
York.  On  one  of  these  voyages  he  was 
42 


flDiti  fom  at  I^ome 


captured  by  pirates  off  the  coast  of 
Cuba,  but  was  liberated  by  a  Spanish 
man-of-war.  William  Barclay  Foster 
was  married  in  Chambersburg,  Penn- 
sylvania, in  1807,  to  Eliza  Clayland 
Tomlinson.  The  newly  wedded  couple 
crossed  the  mountains  to  Pittsburg,  a 
distance  of  nearly  three  hundred  miles, 
on  horseback.  The  elder  Foster  was 
a  substantial  business  man.  He  pur- 
chased a  large  tract  of  land,  then  out- 
side of  Pittsburg,  but  now  part  of  the 
city,  which  he  named  Lawrenceville  in 
honor  of  Captain  James  Lawrence  of 
"Don't  give  up  the  ship"  fame.  During 
the  War  of  1812  when  Washington 
had  been  burned  by  the  British  and 
New  Orleans  was  threatened,  urgent 
orders  came  to  Pittsburg  for  supplies 
for  Jackson's  band  of  defenders,  but 
no  money  accompanied  the  orders. 
Foster  nevertheless  shipped  the  sup- 
plies, which  reached  Jackson  in  the 
nick  of  time.  But  the  government 
never  settled  for  them,  and  the  judg- 

43 


famouis  amtrfcan  ^ong^ 

ment  which  Foster  recovered  still 
stands  unsatisfied  on  the  records  of 
the  United  States  Court  at  Pittsburg. 
His  patriotism,  however,  undimin- 
ished, he  donated  a  piece  of  ground  in 
Lawrenceville  for  a  soldiers'  burial- 
place.  A  monument  marks  the  site. 
Of  William  Barclay  Foster's  children 
Morrison  Foster  died  as  recently  as 
1904.  He  was  a  man  of  means.  Another 
son,  William  Foster,  was  the  first  vice- 
president  of  the  Pennsylvania  Rail- 
road ;  a  daughter  married  Rev.  Edward 
Y.  Buchanan,  a  brother  of  President 
Buchanan,  and  her  daughter  is  the  wife 
of  the  president  of  one  of  the  great 
railway  systems  of  the  United  States. 
H  enrietta  Crosman,  the  actress,  whose 
full  name  is  Henrietta  Foster  Cros- 
man, is  another  direct  descendant.  She 
is  a  grandniece  of  Stephen  Collins 
Foster,  and  from  her  and  her  mother, 
who  was  the  first  person  to  sing  sev- 
eral of  his  songs,  many  of  the  facts  for 
this  article  have  been  obtained. 
44 


flDlt)  foW  at  ^omt 


These  family  details  are  interesting 
because  they  show  that  Stephen  was 
of  gentle  birth,  which  goes  far  to  ac- 
count for  the  delicacy  and  refinement 
which  give  his  melodies  much  of  their 
charm.  He  was  the  idol  of  a  tender, 
devoted  mother,  and  the  pet  of  the  fa- 
mily ;  and  there  was  no  reason  why  his 
life  should  not  have  passed  unclouded 
and  happy  save  that  he  became  a  slave 
to  drink,  so  that  he  died  in  want  in  a 
New  York  hospital,  and  came  near  to 
burial  as  an  unidentified  pauper  in  the 
potters'  field. 

It  was  July  4,  1826,  in  the  midst  of 
the  celebration  of  fifty  years  of  Ameri- 
can independence,  and  the  band  on 
the  grounds  of  the  Foster  residence  at 
Lawrenceville  (now  part  of  Pittsburg) 
playing  "The  Star-Spangled  Banner," 
that  Stephen  Collins  Foster  was  born. 
When  he  was  two  years  old  he  would 
lay  his  sister's  guitar,  which  he  called 
his  "ittly  pizani"  (little  piano),  on  the 
floor,  and  pick  out  harmonies  on  the 

45 


famom  American  ^ongg 

strings.  At  eight  years  of  age  he  taught 
himself  the  flute,  and  later  the  piano. 
His  first  composition  to  be  publicly 
performed  was  a  waltz,  the  "Tioga," 
which  he  wrote  for  four  flutes,  and 
played  with  three  of  his  fellow-stu- 
dents at  the  commencement  of  the  Ath- 
ens (Pennsylvania)  Academy,  where  it 
was  received  with  great  applause.  His 
first  published  song  was  "Open  thy 
Lattice,  Love."  He  was  then  sixteen. 
When  he  was  nineteen  he  formed  a 
singing  club  among  the  young  men  of 
his  acquaintance.  It  met  twice  a  week 
at  his  father's  house,  and  he  conducted. 
After  a  while  he  began  composing 
songs  for  this  club.  The  first  was  "The 
Louisiana  Belle."  A  week  later  he 
wrote  one  of  his  best  known  songs, 
"Uncle  Ned."  As  an  illustration  of 
his  happy  faculty  of  expression  it  is 
pointed  out  that  when  he  wrote  the 
line,  "His  fingers  were  long  like  de 
cane  in  de  brake,"  he  never  had  been 
below  the  Ohio,  yet  the  aptness  of  the 
46 


€)lt)  folfejS  at  J^ome 


simile  will  strike  anyone  who  has  seen 
a  sugar-cane  plantation. 

In  running  over  the  list  of  Stephen 
Collins  Foster's  songs  it  is  found  to 
include  many  that  are  so  familiar  that 
the  popular  mind  does  not  associate 
them  with  any  particular  composer, 
but  takes  for  granted  that  they  ''just 
growed."  Nothing  could  go  farther  to 
prove  that  although  they  were  con- 
sciously composed,  they  have  all  the 
characteristics  of  genuine  folk  songs, 
and  that,  simple  as  they  are  (three 
chords  of  the  key  usually  suffice  Fos- 
ter for  harmony),  they  are  destined  to 
survive.  A  year  after  he  had  composed 
"Uncle  Ned,"  and  while  he  was  clerk- 
ing it  in  his  brother  Dunning's  office 
in  Cincinnati,  he  wrote  "Oh,  Susanna." 
Not  having  as  yet  taken  up  music  pro- 
fessionally, he  made  a  present  of  these 
two  songs  to  a  friend,  who  cleared  ten 
thousand  dollars  from  them,  and  de- 
veloped what  was  then  a  small  musi- 
cal publishing  business  into  one  of  the 

47 


ifamoug  american  ^ongg 

largest  houses  in  its  line  in  the  West. 
Several  of  Foster's  songs  echoed  his 
personal  feelings.  "Massa's  in  de  Cold 
Ground,"  though  of  course  a  darky 
song,  was  written  under  the  sorrow 
and  feeling  of  loneliness  caused  by  his 
father's  death;  "Old  Dog  Tray"  in 
memory  of  a  beautiful  setter  he  had 
owned ; "  My  Old  Kentucky  Home  "  as 
a  musical  souvenir  of  the  picturesque 
homestead  of  his  relative,  Judge  and 
United  States  Senator  John  Rowan, 
of  Bardstown,  Kentucky.  It  is  said 
that  "My  Old  Kentucky  Home"  was 
written  by  Foster  while  he  and  his 
sister  were  on  a  visit  to  the  Rowan 
home.  One  morning  while  the  slaves 
were  at  work  and  the  darky  children 
romping,  the  two  young  visitors  were 
seated  on  a  bench  in  front  of  the  home- 
stead. In  a  tree  overhead  a  mocking- 
bird was  warbling.  From  a  bush  near 
by  came  the  song  of  a  thrush.  Ac- 
cording to  the  story,  Foster  wrote  and 
composed  the  song  then  and  there; 
48 


flDlD  f olfejs  at  l^ome 


and  when  enoughof  it  was  jotted  down 
for  his  sister  to  obtain  an  idea  of  the 
melody  and  of  the  first  stanza,  she  took 
the  sheet  from  his  hand  and  in  a  sweet, 
mellow  voice,  that  chimed  in  with  the 
surroundings,  sang. 

The  sun  shines  bright  in  the  old  Kentucky  home ; 

'T  is  summer ;  the  darkies  are  gay ; 
The  corntop  's  ripe  and  the  meadow 's  in  the  bloom, 

While  the  birds  make  music  all  the  day. 

One  Sunday  afternoon  in  the  home  of 
one  of  his  brothers,  he  sat  with  one 
leg  over  the  arm  of  his  chair,  whis- 
tling. After  a  while  he  went  to  a  table 
and  began  writing  some  words  and 
music.  Then  he  called  his  niece  (who 
afterwards  became  Mrs.  Crosman)  to 
the  piano,  and  together  they  tried  over 
what  he  had  first  whistled  and  then 
put  down  on  paper.  Later  in  the  day 
he  arranged  it  for  quartet,  and  in  the 
evening  he,  his  niece  and  his  brother 
went  to  a  neighbor's,  where  the  lady 
of  the  house  sang  soprano,  and  tried 
over  the  quartet.  Thus  his  most  am- 

49 


jTamoug  American  ^ongjg 

bitious  composition,  "Come  where  my 
Lovelies  Dreaming,  "was  written  both 
as  a  solo  and  as  a  quartet  and  sung  in 
both  forms,  all  in  the  course  of  an  after- 
noon and  evening. 

Foster  is  described  as  a  man  of  com- 
paratively small  stature  (five  feet  seven 
inches),  but  of  great  physical  courage. 
Mrs.  Crosman  tells  me  that  at  a  dance 
he  presented  a  bouquet  of  flowers  to  a 
girl  who  was  engaged  and  that  when 
her  fianc6  protested  rather  more  vio- 
lently than  seemed  necessary,  Stephen 
promptly  knocked  him  down.  The  in- 
cident led  to  the  breaking  off  of  the 
engagement.  One  night,  on  his  way 
home,  he  saw  two  ruffians  attacking 
a  drunken  man,  promptly  interfered, 
and  fought  off  the  two  men  in  a  rough- 
and-tumble  combat,  during  which  he 
received  a  knife-wound  on  the  cheek 
which  left  a  lifelong  scar. 

Though  never  unwilling  to  risk  a  per- 
sonal encounterwhen  he  thought  him- 
self justified  in  so  doing,  he  was  deeply 
50 


€)ID  ^oM  at  I^ome 


sympathetic  and  tender-hearted.  On 
one  occasion  when  he  saw  a  little  girl 
run  over  and  killed — she  was  crossing 
the  street  of  a  rainy  night,  her  shawl 
drawn  over  her  head  and  face  so  that 
she  did  not  see  or  hear  the  horses  ap- 
proaching—he followed  the  body  to 
the  home  of  her  parents,  who  were 
poor  working-people,  and  remained 
with  them  all  night  trying  to  comfort 
them  as  best  he  could.  At  the  same 
time  he  was  proud  and  sensitive  and 
resented  the  least  slight.  A  woman 
issuing  a  verbal  invitation  to  a  party 
said,  **Tell  Stephen  to  come,  and  to  be 
sure  and  bring  his  flute."  He  sent  the 
flute — but  stayed  at  home  himself. 

He  was  a  light  sleeper.  A  newly 
bought  clock,  which  he  had  placed  on 
his  mantel-shelf,  so  disturbed  him  with 
its  loud  tick  that  he  got  out  of  bed, 
wrapped  a  blanket  around  the  offend- 
ing clock  and  put  it  in  a  bureau  drawer. 
But  the  dull  throb  which  reached  his 
ear  was  even  more  tantalizing  than 

51 


the  sharper  sound  had  been.  He  arose 
again,  carried  the  clock  and  blanket 
downstairs  and  placed  them  in  the 
cupboard.  But  in  his  room  he  heard, 
or  fancied  he  heard,  the  distant  throb 
of  the  timepiece  like  a  muffled  funeral 
note.  This  time  he  carried  clock  and 
blanket  to  the  remotest  recess  of  the 
cellar,  where  he  covered  them  with  a 
washtub ;  then,  carefully  closing  every 
door  behind  him,  he  ascended  to  his 
room,  and  at  last  was  able  to  go  to 
sleep.  One  night  a  strange  dog,  prowl- 
ing about  the  place  and  howling,  so  dis- 
turbed Foster  that  he  seized  a  poker 
and,  dashing  out,  chased  the  animal 
away.  Next  day  the  familymade  merry 
of  this  incident  at  the  expense  of  the 
author  and  composer  of  "Old  Dog 
Tray." 

At  times  he  wrote  songs  which  he 
did  not  consider  good  enough  to  send 
to  his  pubHshers.  "Uncle  Stephen," 
Mrs.  Crosman  once  asked  him,  "why 
do  you  take  the  trouble  to  write  out 

52 


£DID  ilfolItjS  at  ]^ome 


those  ugly  things  that  you  tear  up  al- 
most as  soon  as  you  have  them  on 
paper?" 

"Because,"  he  replied,  "it's  the  only 
way  I  can  get  them  out  of  my  head 
and  make  room  there  for  something 
better." 

Probably  his  most  familiar  songs  are. 
Beautiful  Dreamer,  Come  where  my 
Love  lies  Dreaming,  Don't  bet  your 
Money  on  the  Shanghai,  Gentle  Annie, 
'Gwine  to  run  All  Night,  Hard  Times 
come  again  no  More,  I  see  Her  still  in 
my  Dreams,  Jenny  June,  Laura  Lee, 
Louisiana  Belle,  Massa's  in  de  Cold 
Ground,  My  Old  Kentucky  Home, 
Nelly  was  a  Lady,  Nelly  Bly,  Old  Dog 
Tray,  Oh  Boys,  carry  Me  'Long,  Old 
Folks  at  Home,  Old  Black  Joe,  Oh, 
Susanna,  Under  the  Willow  she's 
Sleeping,  Uncle  Ned,  Virginia  Belle, 
Willie,  we  have  Missed  You,  and 
When  this  dreadful  War  is  ended.  He 
also  wrote  and  composed  fifteen 
hymns. 

53 


(ffamoujS  american  Rongji 

In  1850  Foster  married  Jane  Denny 
McDowell,  the  daughter  of  a  leading 
Pittsburg  physician.  Shortly  after- 
wards he  was  induced  by  flattering 
offers  from  his  publishers,  Firth,  Pond 
&  Co.,  of  New  York,  to  settle  in  that 
city.  But  after  he  had  been  there  a 
year  he  grew  so  homesick  that  one 
day  he  announced  that  he  was  going 
home,  disposed  of  his  furniture  before 
evening,  and  the  next  day,  late  at 
night,  rang  the  bell  of  his  parents' 
house.  His  mother  recognized  his 
footsteps  and  going  to  the  door  called 
out,  "Is  that  my  dear  son  come  home 
again?"  He  was  so  affected  by  her 
voice  that,  when  she  opened  the  door, 
she  found  him  crying  like  a  child. 

He  remained  at  home  until  i860 
when,  having  separated  from  his  wife, 
he  again  went  to  New  York.  There 
his  unfortunate  habits  grew  upon  him 
and  at  times  he  walked  the  streets  in 
an  old  glazed  cap  and  shabby  clothing 
which  made  him  look  more  like  a 
54 


flDlD  f  0160  at  l^ome 


tramp  than  the  composer  of  songs 
that  were  being  sung  on  every  side. 
He  would  write  and  compose  a  song 
in  the  morning,  sell  it  in  the  afternoon, 
and  spend  the  proceeds  in  dissipation 
before  night.  In  January,  1864,  while 
ill  with  fever  in  a  cheap  hotel,  he  rose 
during  the  night  for  a  drink  of  water, 
was  so  weak  that  he  fell  when  near 
the  washstand,  and,  in  so  doing,  struck 
against  the  broken  lip  of  the  pitcher 
and  gashed  his  neck.  He  lay  on  the 
floor  insensible  until  discovered  in  the 
morning  by  a  servant  who  was  bring- 
ing towels  to  his  room.  On  being  re- 
vived he  asked  to  be  taken  to  Bellevue 
Hospital,  where  he  died  from  fever  and 
loss  of  blood  on  the  thirteenth  of  Janu- 
ary. His  identity  not  being  known  at 
the  hospital,  his  body  for  a  time  lay 
in  the  morgue,  where  friends  finally 
traced  it  and  prevented  the  composer 
of  so  many  sweet  and  tender  melodies 
from  being  buried  as  a  pauper.  It  is 
sometimes    said    that    corporations 

55 


jfamoujS  ametfcan  ^ongjs 

have  no  souls,  but  both  the  Pennsyl- 
vania Railway  and  the  Adams  Ex- 
press Company  declined  payment  for 
conveying  the  remains  to  Pittsburg. 
He  was  buried  beside  his  parents,  a 
volunteer  band,  formed  of  the  best 
musicians  of  the  city,  playing  **Come 
where  my  Love  lies  Dreaming"  and 
**01d  Folks  at  Home"  over  his  grave. 


56 


J^iVit 


Ill 


N  the  eveningof  June  28, 1904, 
the  orchestra  at  the  Waldorf- 
Astoria  struck  up  "Dixie," 
which  is  on  its  programme 
almost  nightly,  and  especially  in  sum- 
mer, when  so  many  Southerners  are  in 
New  York.  As  usual  a  thrill  of  recogni- 
tion and  pleasure  passed  through  the 
restaurant.  Many  people.  Northerners 
as  well  as  Southerners  (for  what  once 
was  the  civil  war  song  of  the  South  long 
has  been  adopted  by  the  whole  coun- 
try), beat  time  to  the  music  by  tapping 
on  the  floor  with  their  feet,  or  on  the 
tables  with  forks  and  spoons.  While 
this  unconscious  tribute  was  being 
paid  to  a  popular  song,  in  what  is  per- 
haps the  gayest  nook  in  the  New 
World,  an  old  minstrel,  loved  by  his 
humble  neighbors  but  forgotten  by  the 
world  at  large,  lay  dying  in  a  little  clap- 
board hut  on  the  outskirts  of  Mount 

59 


jTamoug  american  ^ongg 

Vernon,  Ohio.  Forty-five  years  before, 
he  had  written  and  composed  the  song 
which  at  that  moment,  under  the  blaze 
of  electroliers,  was  being  played  for 
the  delectation  of  men  and  women  any 
one  of  whom  carelessly  would  spend 
for  an  evening's  amusement  more  than 
he  might  have  had  to  live  on  for  a  year. 
The  old  minstrel  was  Daniel  Decatur 
Emmett,  sometimes  called  for  short 
''Dan  Decate,"  but  more  generally 
known  among  the  few  stage  veterans 
who  remembered  him  at  all  as  "Old 
Dan  Emmett." 

After  Emmett's  death  some  one 
asked,  "Does  it  pay  to  be  famous?" 
and  pointed  to  his  poverty  as  a  nega- 
tive answer.  Yet  the  old  minstrel  was 
content.  He  had  his  hut,  which  was 
scrupulously  clean ;  a  garden  patch  and 
some  chickens.  A  few  years  before  he 
died  that  eminently  practical  charity, 
the  Actors'  Fund  of  America,  learned 
of  his  whereabouts  and  granted  him 
a  small  stipend.  Occasionally  he  re- 
60 


DANIEL   DECATUR    EMMETT 


ceived  requests  accompanied  by  re- 
mittances for  his  autograph  or  manu- 
script copies  of  "Dixie."  Moreover, 
like  many  people  of  the  stage  (al- 
though this  may  surprise  those  whose 
acquaintance  with  it  is  merely  casual), 
he  was  deeply  religious.  Often  he  could 
be  seen  sitting  in  the  sun  outside  his 
door  and  reading  his  large  copy  of  the 
Bible.  Among  the  many  manuscripts 
which  he  left  was  a  set  of  prayers  ap- 
parently of  his  own  authorship.  One 
of  them  was  a  grace  before  meals.  Its 
appropriateness  to  his  own  humble  cir- 
cumstances is  one  of  the  most  touch- 
ing examples  of  unconscious  pathos  I 
know  of.  It  does  not,  after  the  usual 
manner  of  such  prayers,  thank  the 
Lord  for  his  "bounty,"  but  "for  this 
frugal  meal,  and  all  other  meals  Thou 
hast  permitted  me  to  enjoy  during  my 
past  existence."  There  surely  was  a 
spirit  of  resignation  as  rare  as  it  was 
pathetic ! 
Emmett  wrote  "Dixie"  while  he  was 

6i 


a  member  of  the  famous  Bryant's  Min- 
strels which  he  had  joined  in  1857.  He 
was  known  already  as  the  composer 
of  "Old  Dan  Tucker,"  and  he  was  en- 
gaged by  Bryant  not  only  in  the  ca- 
pacity of  a  stage  performer,  but  also 
to  compose  Negro  songs  and  walk- 
arounds.  Those  were  the  days  of  the 
real  minstrel  shows  when  **end  men," 
"bones"  and  "interlocutor"  were  in 
their  glory.  The  performance  always 
wound  up  with  an  ensemble  called  the 
"  walk-around, "  which  was  (or  was  sup- 
posed to  be)  a  genuine  bit  of  planta- 
tion life.  The  composition  of  fetching 
walk-arounds  was  a  knack  with  Em- 
mett  that  made  him  a  valuable  acqui- 
sition for  a  minstrel  troupe.  Moreover, 
he  had  a  good  voice  and  played  many 
instruments,  but  especially  violin  and 
flute. 

On  Saturday  night,  September  17, 
1859,  after  the  performance,  one  of  the 
Bryants  told  Emmett  that  a  new  walk- 
around  was  wanted  in  time  for  re- 
62 


hearsal  on  Monday.  The  minstrel  re- 
plied that  while  the  time  was  very 
short  he  would  do  his  best.  That  night 
after  he  reached  home  he  tried  to 
hit  upon  some  tune,  but  the  music 
would  n't  come.  His  wife  cheerily  told 
him  to  wait  until  morning ;  he  should 
have  the  room  to  himself  so  that  he 
could  work  undisturbed,  and  when  he 
had  finished  the  walk-around  he  could 
play  it  for  her  as  sole  audience.  If  she 
liked  it,  the  Bryants  would,  and  so 
would  the  average  listener. 

Next  day  was  rainy  and  dismal.  Some 
years  before,  Emmett  had  travelled 
with  a  circus  as  a  drummer.  In  win- 
ter the  warm  Southern  circuit  was  a 
popular  route  with  circus  people,  and 
those  who  were  obliged  to  show  North 
would  say  when  the  cold  weather 
would  make  them  shiver,  "I  wish  I  was 
in  Dixie."  The  phrase  was  in  fact  a 
current  circus  expression.  On  that 
dismal  September  day,  probably  the 
beginning  of  the  equinoctial,  when 

63 


jTamoug  american  ^ongg 

Emmett  stepped  to  the  window  and 
looked  out,  the  old  longing  for  the 
pleasant  South  came  over  him,  and 
involuntarily  he  thought  to  himself, 
"I  wish  I  was  in  Dixie."  Like  a  flash 
the  thought  suggested  the  first  line 
for  a  walk-around,  and  a  little  later 
the  minstrel,  fiddle  in  hand,  was  work- 
ing out  the  melody  which,  coupled 
with  the  words,  made  "Dixie"  a  gen- 
uine song  of  the  people  almost  from 
the  instant  it  was  first  sung  from  the 
stage  of  Bryant's  Minstrels,  then  at 
472  Broadway,  New  York,  on  the  night 
of  Monday,  September  19,  1859. 
When  Emmett  took  the  song  to  re- 
hearsal it  began  with  a  verse  which 
was  omitted  at  the  performance. 

Dis  worl'  was  made  in  jiss  six  days, 
An'  finish'd  up  in  various  ways ; 

Look  away  I  look  away !  look  away  I 
Dixie  Land  1 
Dey  den  made  Dixie  trim  and  nice, 
But  Adam  call'd  it  "Paradise." 
Look  away  I  look  away !  look  away  1 
Dixie  Land  1 


64 


The  minstrels  were  very  careful  never 
to  put  anything  on  the  stage  that 
might  give  offence  in  any  way,  and 
Mrs.  Bryant,  who  was  at  the  rehearsal, 
was  afraid  that  these  lines  might  of- 
fend people  with  pronounced  religious 
scruples,  though  she  told  Emmett,  dip- 
lomatically, that  they  were  "very  nice" 
in  other  respects.  He  included  them 
in  some  of  his  manuscript  copies  of  the 
song,  but  the  version  generally  known 
begins  with  the  familiar 

I  wish  I  was  in  de  land  ob  cotton, 
Old  times  dar  am  not  forgotten ; 

Look  away  1  look  away  I  look  away ! 
Dixie  Land ! 
In  Dixie  land  whar  I  was  born  in, 
Early  on  one  frosty  mornin', 
Look  away !  look  away !  look  away 
Dixie  Land! 

Chorus 
Den  I  wish  I  was  in  Dixie!  Hooray!  Hooray! 
In  Dixie's  Land  we  '11  take  our  stand,  to  lib  an'  die  in  Dixie. 
Away !  away !  away  down  South  in  Dixie. 
Away !  away !  away  down  South  in  Dixie. 

The  stanzas  which  followed  under- 
went slight  changes  from  time  to  time. 
In  their  final  shape  they  are: 

65 


(famouisi  ^metican  ^ongjs 


Ole  missus  marry  "  Will-de-weaber ; " 
Willum  was  a  gay  deceaber ; 

Look  away  I  look  away  1  look  away  I 
Dixie  Land ! 
But  when  he  put  his  arm  around  her, 
He  smiled  as  fierce  as  a  forty-pounder ; 
Look  away  I  look  away  I  look  away  1 
Dixie  Land ! 

His  face  was  sharp  as  a  butcher's  cleaber ; 
But  dat  did  not  seem  to  greab  her ; 
Look  away  I  look  away  I  look  away  I 
Dixie  Land  1 
Ole  missus  acted  de  foolish  part, 
And  died  for  a  man  dat  broke  her  heart ; 
Look  away !  look  away !  look  away  1 
Dixie  Land  1 

Now  here 's  health  to  de  next  ole  missus, 
An'  all  the  gals  dat  want  to  kiss  us ; 
Look  away  I  look  away  1  look  away  I 
Dixie  Land  I 
But  if  you  want  to  drive  'way  sorrow, 
Come  and  hear  dis  song  to-morrow ; 
Look  away!  look  away!  look  awayl 
Dixie  Land  I 

Dar  's  buckwheat  cakes  an'  Injin  batter, 
Makes  you  fat  or  a  little  fatter ; 
Look  away !  look  away !  look  away  I 
Dixie  Land ! 
Den  hoe  it  down  an'  scratch  your  grabble, 
To  Dixie's  Land  I  'm  bound  to  trabble ; 
Look  away!  look  away!  look  awayl 
Dixie  Land  I 

66 


'DAN"    EMMETT,    IN    OLD    AGE 


MXit 

Mrs.  Emmett  had  suggested  plain 
"Dixie"  as  a  title  for  the  song,  and  her 
husband  had  adopted  it.  But  when 
the  song  was  published  in  i860,  it 
was  called,  "I  wish  I  was  in  Dixie's 
Land," — a  line  which  does  not  occur 
in  it.  Afterwards  it  was  published  as 
"Dixie's  Land" — but  to  the  public  it 
simply  is  "Dixie,"  which  shows  that 
when  Mrs.  Emmett  suggested  that 
one  word  for  a  title,  she  knew  what 
she  was  about.  Emmett  himself  stated 
that  he  received  five  hundred  dollars 
for  the  copyright  of  "Dixie,"  and  that 
what  he  had  received  for  all  his  other 
songs  put  together  (which,  it  should 
be  remembered,  included  his  popular 
"Dan  Tucker")  would  be  fairly  repre- 
sented by  one  hundred  dollars ;  so  that 
during  a  lifetime  of  eighty-nine  years 
his  receipts  as  a  popular  song  com- 
poser amounted  to  six  hundred  dol- 
lars— and  obscurity  in  a  little  Western 
town! 

In  1894,  when  Emmett  was  seventy- 

67 


jfamoujs  amerfcan  ^ongjs 


nine  years  old,  a  minstrel  manager, 
who  thought  the  composer  of  ''Dixie" 
still  might  be  profitably  utilized  as  a 
venerable  figurehead  in  a  show,  but 
who,  like  nearly  every  one  else,  had 
lost  all  track  of  Emmett,  finally  suc- 
ceeded in  tracing  him  to  Mount  Ver- 
non. When,  however,  the  manager 
reached  there  and  began  inquiring 
for  "Dan  Emmett,  the  composer  of 
*  Dixie,'"  the  reply  he  got  from  the 
townspeople  was : 

*' Friend,  you've  struck  the  wrong 
place.  There's  a  Dan  Emmett  living 
here,  sure  enough,  and  he  used  to  be 
with  some  show;  but  he  never  com- 
posed 'Dixie,'  nor  anything  else." 

This  was  Emmett's  native  town  and 
he  had  been  living  in  it  again  for  six 
years ;  yet,  until  the  minstrel  manager 
made  his  inquiries,  it  was  not  known 
there  that  the  kindly  old  man,  in  the 
little  cottage  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
place,  was  the  composer  of  a  song  that 
had  been,  was  being,  and  bid  fair  for- 
68 


Mvit 

ever  to  be,  ground  out  on  hand-organs, 
played  by  bands  and  sung  as  solo  and 
chorus,  from  one  end  of  the  country  to 
the  other.  Nowadays  song  composers 
understand  better  how  to  manage  the 
thing.  They  arrive  at  their  publisher's 
place  of  business  in  a  hansom  and  drive 
away  in  an  automobile;  and  when 
"Dixie"  is  played  at  the  Waldorf-As- 
toria, they  are  there  too — dining.  Quite 
a  contrast  to  the  simple  old  man,  whose 
most  remarkable  trait  was  his  indiffer- 
ence to  the  fate  of  what  he  had  written 
and  who  thanked  God  daily  for  "this 
frugal  meal"! 

Emmett  was  born  in  Mount  Vernon, 
Ohio,  October  29, 1815.  His  grandfather 
was  a  soldier  in  the  Revolution,  fight- 
ing under  Morgan  at  the  Cowpens.  His 
father,  who  was  a  blacksmith,  fought  in 
the  War  of  1812,  in  the  regiment  com- 
manded by  Lewis  Cass.  Dan  as  a  boy 
would  "blow  and  strike"  for  his  father 
in  the  latter's  smithy.  At  intervals  be- 
tween his  work  he  ran  errands  or  played 

69 


the  fiddle  for  the  villagers.  He  managed 
topickupanelementaryeducation,and 
when  thirteen  years  of  age  entered  a 
newspaper  office  as  compositor.  The 
result  of  his  experience  in  printing-of- 
fices is  said  to  have  been  shown  in  the 
careful  punctuation  of  his  manuscripts. 
He  still  was  working  "at  the  case" 
when,  at  the  age  of  fifteen  or  sixteen, 
he  wrote  "Old  Dan  Tucker."  A  year 
later  he  enlisted  in  the  United  States 
Army  as  a  fifer,  and  during  his  service 
also  learned  to  drum.  More  than  sixty 
years  later,  after  his  death,  there  was 
found  among  his  manuscripts  one  en- 
titled "  Emmett'sStandard  Drummer," 
which  is  a  complete  school  for  fife  and 
drum  "according  to  the  *Ashworth 
Mode.'" 

After  serving  a  full  enlistment  he  tra- 
velled with  various  circus  bands.  At 
that  time  Negro  minstrelsy  was  as  yet 
unknown,  although  there  were  indi- 
vidual Ethiopian  performers,  like  Dan 
Rice  of  "Jim  Crow  "  fame.  Emmett  had 
70 


travelled  with  Rice  whose  perform- 
ances possibly  suggested  the  Negro 
minstrel  idea  to  the  young  drummer.  As 
in  all  such  cases,  various  claims  to  pri- 
ority are  advanced,  but  it  is  certain  that 
early  in  1843,  in  New  York,  Emmett 
organized  a  string  quartet,  with  vio- 
lin, banjo,  tambourine  and  bones,  and 
named  it  the  Virginia  Minstrels,  first 
carefully  looking  up  the  word  minstrel 
in  the  dictionary  to  assure  himself  that 
it  could  be  applied  appropriately  to  the 
new  organization.  The  costume  con- 
sisted of  white  trousers,  striped  calico 
shirt  and  blue  calico  coat  with  exag- 
gerated swallowtails.  It  was  not  until 
some  years  later  that  the  regulation 
evening  dress  was  adopted  as  the  cos- 
tume most  suitable  to  the  mock  dig- 
nity of  minstrelsy. 

Emmett's  troupe  showed  successfully 
in  various  American  cities,  but  when 
it  adventured  a  tour  of  England  it 
promptly  stranded.  Its  organizer  re- 
turned to  New  York,  found  that  his 

71 


favxom  American  ^ongg 

idea  had  been  utilized  by  others,  and 
eventually  joined  Bryant's  Minstrels. 
From  that  time  on  and  until  he  returned 
to  Mount  Vernon,  his  occupation  was 
Negro  minstrelsy.  His  retirement  was 
due  to  his  age  and  to  the  fact  that 
changes  in  the  style  of  minstrel  per- 
formance had  made  him  a  ''back  num- 
ber." As  the  composer  of  "Dixie"  he 
had  long  since  been  forgotten.  He  ac- 
tually had  been  overshadowed  by  its 
popularity. 

The  vogue  of"  Dixie"  as  the  war  song 
of  the  South  seems  to  have  originated 
in  the  excitement  it  caused  when  sung 
on  the  stage  of  the  New  Orleans  Va- 
rieties Theatre  in  the  spring  of  1861, 
when  Mrs.  John  Wood  was  appearing 
there  in  "Pocahontas."  A  feature  of 
the  performance  was  a  zouave  march 
which  was  introduced  into  the  last 
scene.  A  catchy  tune  was  wanted  for 
this,  and  Carlo  Patti,  the  leader  of  the 
orchestra,  after  trying  over  several 
pieces,  decided  on  "Dixie."  He  little 
72 


^iyit 

knew  what  that  decision  would  mean 
for  the  song.  When  the  zouaves 
marched  on  the  first  night,  led  by- 
Miss  Susan  Denin,  singing  "Dixie," 
the  audience  went  wild  and  demanded 
seven  encores.  From  New  Orleans  it 
seemed  to  flash  over  the  entire  South ; 
the  Washington  Artillery  had  the  tune 
arranged  for  a  quickstep  and  the  whole 
section  of  the  country  rang  with  it. 
Pickett  ordered  it  played  before  his 
famous  charge  at  Gettysburg.  Thus 
the  anomaly  was  presented  of  a  song 
written  and  composed  by  a  man  who 
was  born  in  the  North,  and  who  as  a 
matter  of  fact  sympathized  with  the 
North,  becoming  the  war  song  of  the 
South.  General  Albert  Pike  and  others 
wrote  additional  verses,  and  these  form 
the  only  foundation  for  the  claim  some- 
times advanced  that  Emmett  was  not 
the  author  and  composer  of  "Dixie," 
whereas  his  name  has  appeared  on  the 
copyrighted  title-page  of  the  song  ever 
since  its  earliest  publication. 

73 


ifamoujs  amertcan  ^ongis 


General  Pike's  words  to  "  Dixie"  first 
appeared  in  the  "Natchez  Courier" 
April  30,  1861.  Here  are  some  of  the 
characteristic  stanzas: 

Southrons,  hear  your  country  call  you  I 
Up,  lest  worse  than  death  befall  you ! 

To  arms !  To  arms !  To  arms,  in  Dixie ! 
Lo !  all  the  beacon  fires  are  lighted, 
Let  all  hearts  be  now  united  1 

To  arms !  To  arms !  To  arms,  in  Dixie  I 

Chorus 

Advance  the  flag  of  Dixie !  Hurrah !  Hurrah ! 
For  Dixie's  land  we  take  our  stand,  and  live  and 

die  for  Dixie  1 
To  arms  1  To  arms  1  And  conquer  peace  for  Dixie  I 
To  arms  I  To  arms  1  And  conquer  peace  for  Dixie  i 

Hear  the  Northern  thunders  mutter  I 
Northern  flags  in  South  winds  flutter ! 

To  arms,  &c. 
Send  them  back  your  fierce  defiance  I 
Stamp  upon  the  accursed  alliance  I 

To  arms,  &c. 

Fear  no  danger  I  Shun  no  labor ! 
Lift  up  rifle,  pike  and  sabre  I 

To  arms,  &c. 
Shoulder  pressing  close  to  shoulder, 
Let  the  odds  make  each  heart  bolder  I 

To  arms,  &c. 


74 


Mxit 

How  the  South's  great  heart  rejoices, 
At  your  cannons'  ringing  voices ! 

To  arms,  &c. 
For  faith  betrayed  and  pledges  broken, 
Wrongs  inflicted,  insults  spoken. 

To  arms,  &c. 

A  further  version  that  was  very  pop- 
ular with  Southern  soldiers  began : 

Away  down  South  in  de  fields  of  cotton. 
Cinnamon  seed,  and  sandy  bottom  I 

Look  away !  look  away  1  look  away  1  look  away  1 
Den  'way  down  South  in  de  fields  of  cotton. 
Vinegar  shoes  and  paper  stockings  I 

Look  away  I  look  away  I  look  away !  look  away ! 

Another  interesting  fact  regarding 
"Dixie"  is  that  immediately  after  the 
evacuation  of  Fort  Moultrie  and  be- 
fore the  fall  of  Sumter,  Fanny  Crosby, 
the  blind  hymn-writer,  wrote  North- 
ern words  to  the  tune,  and  it  was  hit 
or  miss  whether  "Dixie"  would  be- 
come a  Northern  or  a  Southern  war 
song,  or  both.  But  Fanny  Crosby's 
words  were  not  "smart"  enough,  and 
as  a  Southern  song,  it  had  theimmense 
advantage  that  the  original  stanzas, 
even  without  the  additions  of  Pike  and 

75 


others,  sufficed.  During  the  war  poor 
Emmett,  who  had  written  the  song 
simply  as  a  minstrel  walk-around  and 
who,  having  parted  with  the  copyright 
for  a  paltry  sum,  never  benefited  by 
its  enormous  popularity,  received  let- 
ters from  Northern  patriots  denoun- 
cing him  for  disloyalty,  and  suggesting 
a  rope's  end  as  the  most  appropriate 
punishment  for  his  "treason." 
When  he  was  eighty  years  old  he  at 
last  had  a  taste  of  what  it  is  to  be  fa- 
mous—and one  season  of  it  was 
enough  for  him.  He  went  out  with  a 
minstrel  troupe  in  the  supposed  role 
of  venerable  figurehead.  But  when  at 
the  first  performance  the  orchestra 
struck  up  "Dixie,"  he  rose  and,  with 
old-time  gestures  and  in  a  voice  tremu- 
lous with  age,  sang  the  song.  Through- 
out the  South  he  was  the  object  of 
ovation  after  ovation.  He  was  grateful, 
but  he  also  was  amused,  for  he  could 
not  help  thinking  of  the  humble  origin 
of  his  song  and  how  far  it  had  gotten 
76 


•^u.^yy^-'C^u. , 


^a^.'U  A^  /loi*-^-'*'*^''''*^''^^  —   ^^^^'  ^^'  —    '^^^'  ^^^ 


/loOM .  Q^if.-i^  ^/Ph^  ^TiT/    lATJyLJt^e^  ii^^^itf.-ii.Th*-'!^!  -^^ 


'j.o^-     Jjw^^^-c£4^^ti^i^J/f_'t^i,  mv ^^^ujsi-f^^  iU-  d^r4^  A-'o^.^    ^ 


/Uro^,  A-  ***'*y'  <*-  ^-^f-y  g/«-^'»«-*w-<^^<-»-  £^*^-.t-e-,  a-  ■*^^'*^7y'  ^-  ■****^  *  ^~ 


'^t/ 


FACSIMILE   OF   AN    AUTHORS   COPY   OF    "DIXIE" 
Reproduced  through  the  courtesy  of  Alexander  Hill 


MXit 

away  from  its  original  purpose  and  his 
own  sentiments  when  it  became  a  war 
song.  One  day,  while  strolling  about 
Richmond,  Virginia,  he  paused  in  front 
of  Stonewall  Jackson's  monument,  and 
the  better  to  read  the  inscription,  raised 
his  hat  and  shielded  his  eyes  with  it 
from  the  sun.  That  evening  one  of  the 
newspapers  came  out  with  big  head- 
lines announcingthaf  Daniel  Decatur 
Emmett,  the  author  of  'Dixie,'  like  the 
true  Southron  that  he  is,  bows  with 
uncovered  head  before  the  monument 
of  Stonewall  Jackson."  Emmett  knew 
it  was  kindly  meant,  but  he  appre- 
ciated the  unconscious  humor  of  the 
situation  too. 

On  the  whole  he  enjoyed  the  tour,  but 
did  not  attempt  another.  It  was  "too 
much  of  the  same  thing  for  an  old  man." 
He  went  back  to  Mount  Vernon,  and 
never  left  it  again.  And  now  that  he 
is  dead,  his  grateful  countrymen,  who 
allowed  him  at  the  age  of  eighty-nine 
to  raise  chickens,  hoe  in  a  garden  and 

77 


jTamoug  amencan  ^ongg 

chop  wood  for  a  sparse  livelihood,  are 
planning  to  erect  a  monument  in  his 
honor!  The  only  redeeming  feature  of 
it  is  that  he  did  n't  much  care. 


78 


iBen  :Bolt 


IV 


44 


mm  Bolt 


>> 


HE  first  time  those  "three 

mousquetaires  of  the  brush," 

Taffy,  the  Laird  and  Little 

Billee,   heard    Miss  Trilby 

O'Ferrall  sing 

"Oh,  don't  you  remember  sweet  Alice,  Ben  Bolt?" 

that  young  woman  had  not  yet  fallen 
under  the  influence  of  the  sinister 
Svengali  and  been  hypnotized  by  him 
into  singing  more  divinely  than  any 
one  else  in  Europe.  Her  "Ben  Bolt" 
was  half  weird,  half  ludicrous;  the 
mere  outline  of  the  melody  delivered 
with  immense  volume  of  tone,  with- 
out, however,  a  single  note  being  ex- 
actly in  tune. 

After  Trilby  had  gone,  Little  Billee 
was  made  by  Taffy  to  sit  down  at  the 
piano  and  sing  it.  "He  sang  it  very 
nicely  with  his  pleasant  little  throaty 
English   barytone."  Then  Svengali, 

impatiently  shoving  him  off  the  piano 

8i 


famow  amettcan  ^ong)^ 


stool,  played  a  masterly  prelude  to 
the  song;  and  Gecko — as  Du  Mau- 
rier  describes  it— cuddling  lovingly 
his  violin  and  closing  his  upturned 
eyes,  played  that  simple  melody  as 
it  probably  never  had  been  played 
before— such  passion,  such  pathos, 
such  a  tone!  —  and  they  turned  it  and 
twisted  it,  and  went  from  one  key  to 
another,  playing  into  each  other's 
hands,  Svengali  taking  the  lead ;  and 
fugued  and  canoned  and  counter- 
pointed  and  battledored  and  shuttle- 
cocked  it,  high  and  low,  soft  and  loud, 
in  minor,  in  pizzicato,  and  in  sordino 
—adagio,  andante,  allegretto,  scherzo 
—and  exhausted  all  its  possibilities 
of  beauty;  till  their  susceptible  audi- 
ence of  three  was  all  but  crazed  with 
delight  and  wonder;  and  the  master- 
ful Ben  Bolt,  and  his  over-tender  Alice, 
and  his  too  submissive  friend,  and  his 
old  schoolmaster  so  kind  and  so  true, 
and  his  long-dead  schoolmates,  and 
the  rustic  porch  and  the  mill,  and  the 
82 


THOMAS    DUNN    ENGLISH,    ABOUT    1845 


•Ben  OBolt 


slab  of  granite  so  gray,  were  all  mag- 
nified into  a  strange,  almost  holy  po- 
etic dignity  and  splendor  quite  un- 
dreamed of  by  whoever  wrote  the 
words  and  music  of  that  unsophisti- 
cated little  song,  which  has  touched 
so  many  simple  British  hearts  that 
don't  know  any  better. 

"Whoever  wrote  the  words"!  Fifty 
years  before  Du  Maurier  penned  the 
passage  I  have  quoted,  "Ben  Bolt" 
was  written  by  an  American.  When 
"Trilby"  was  published,  the  author  of 
"Ben  Bolt"  still  was  living;  he  lived, 
in  fact,  until  1902,  surviving  Du  Mau- 
rier eight  years.  But  although  the 
poem  had  been  published  in  a  periodi- 
cal, had  been  sung  all  over  the  Eng- 
lish-speaking world,  and  had  formed 
the  pivotal  point  in  one  of  the  greatest 
sensations  in  literary  history,  its  au- 
thor never  received  a  penny  for  it. 
Moreover  to  his  dying  day  he  resented 
its  popularity  as  compared  with  the 
reception  accorded  his  maturer  writ- 

83 


jfamoug  ametican  ^ongg 

ings,  which  he  knew  to  be  better. 

I  met  him  once  by  appointment  in  his 
own  house  and  conversed  with  him  for 
about  an  hour  without  knowing  that 
he  was  the  author  of  "Ben  Bolt,"  and 
not  until  the  "Trilby"  craze  nearly 
twenty  years  afterwards  did  I  discover 
that  he  was.  In  the  autumn  of  1876,  in 
the  midst  of  a  hotly  contested  presi- 
dential campaign,  I  carefully  prepared 
an  extemporaneous  stump  speech  for 
delivery  before  a  political  club  in  Leo- 
nia,  New  Jersey.  As  I  still  was  a  callow 
youth,  a  college  boy,  one  of  the  poli- 
ticians of  the  neighborhood,  who  evi- 
dently was  suspicious  of  my  efforts, 
advised  me  to  show  my  speech  to  a 
Dr.  English  of  Fort  Lee,  who,  although 
a  practising  physician,  took  a  lively 
interest  in  politics  and  made  cam- 
paign speeches  himself.  Accordingly  I 
climbed  up  the  rear  of  the  Palisades 
of  the  Hudson  to  Fort  Lee,  where  I 
found  the  doctor  living  in  a  small 
house.  He  was  a  somewhat  elderly, 
84 


OBen  OBolt 


dignified  gentleman,  a  trifle  old-fash- 
ioned in  his  attire,  and  who  struck  me 
more  like  a  character  out  of  a  book 
than  a  practising  physician  in  the 
straggling  settlement  on  top  of  the 
PaHsades.  He  seemed  to  me  decidedly 
above  his  somewhat  plain,  not  to  say 
meagre  surroundings ;  a  man  who  had 
not  found  life  altogether  easy,  but  had 
the  grit  to  take  it  as  it  came.  He  read 
over  my  speech,  advised  me  to  leave 
out  what  I  had  considered  its  most 
resounding  periods,  and  kindly  ex- 
plained to  me  why  these  oratorical 
flights  had  better  be  omitted.  Long 
afterwards  when  "Trilby"  was  pub- 
lished, I  discovered,  while  reading  a 
review  of  the  book,  that  the  Dr.  Eng- 
lish of  Fort  Lee,  who  literally  had 
raked  the  "chestnuts"  out  of  the  ora- 
torical fire  for  me,  was  none  other  than 
Dr.  Thomas  Dunn  English,  the  author 
of  "Ben  Bolt." 

The  circumstances  under  which  the 
lines  were  written,  and  which  were  re- 

85 


famous  american  ^ongg 

lated  to  me  by  the  author's  daughter, 
Miss  Alice  English,  who  often  heard 
them  from  her  father,  seem  to  take  us 
far  back  in  American  literature.  For 
Dr.  English  knew  Edgar  Allan  Poe 
and  many  of  the  other  early  American 
writers.  During  the  summer  of  1843  he 
was  visiting  in  New  York,  where  he 
became  acquainted  with  N.  P.  Willis, 
who  with  George  P.  Morris  recently 
had  revived  the  "New  York  Mirror." 
Willis  asked  English  to  contribute  a 
sea  poem,  explaining,  however,  that 
the  paper  was  run  on  very  small  capi- 
tal and  that  its  editors  would  be  greatly 
obliged  to  him  if  he  would  let  them 
have  the  poem  just  for  the  love  of  the 
thing.  That  was  not  an  unusual  re- 
quest to  be  made  by  editors  of  Ameri- 
can periodicals  in  those  days.  At  all 
events  English  consented ;  then  went 
home  and  forgot  all  about  his  promise 
until  reminded  of  it  by  a  letter  from 
Willis. 
He  had  the  manuscript  of  a  sea  poem 
86 


I3en  TBolt 


which,  however,  he  had  discarded  as 
not  up  to  the  mark,  but  which  played 
its  part,  nevertheless,  in  the  composi- 
tion of  "Ben  Bolt."  When  he  sat  down 
at  his  desk  to  write  something  new 
for  the  "Mirror,"  it  seemed  as  if  the 
mantle  of  Dibdin  was  reluctant  to  fall 
upon  him  and  the  poem  of  the  sea  was 
not  forthcoming.  But  by  one  of  those 
curious  reflex  actions  of  the  mind  he 
drifted  into  reminiscences  of  his  boy- 
hood, and  almost  before  he  knew  it  he 
had  written  the  line, 

Don't  you  remember  sweet  Alice,  Ben  Bolt? 

The  poem  consists  of  five  stanzas  of 
eight  lines  each,  but  not  until  the  last 
line  is  there  the  slightest  hint  as  to  its 
hero's  walk  in  life,  when  suddenly  he 
is  apostrophized  as  "Ben  Bolt  of  the 
salt-sea  gale!" — a  line  that  gives  con- 
siderable "lift"  to  the  whole  and  adds 
a  touch  of  vigor  to  what  was  simply 
a  sentimental  ballad.  It  looks  as  if  Dr. 
English  had  bethought  himself  at  the 

^7 


jTamoug  american  ^ongg 

finish  that  Willis  had  asked  for  a  sea 
poem,  and,  in  order  to  comply  with  the 
request,  had  introduced  the  line  at  the 
end  of  five  stanzas  in  which  the  sea 
was  conspicuous  by  its  absence.  The 
curiously  interesting  fact  is,  however, 
that  when  he  was  halfway  through 
the  last  stanza,  his  inspiration  abso- 
lutely gave  out.  He  *'got  stuck,"  as 
the  more  commonplace  saying  is — 
when  he  chanced  to  think  of  the  dis- 
carded sea  poem  and  simply  copied 
the  last  four  lines  of  it  on  to  what  he 
had  written,  making  them  the  last  four 
lines  of  "Ben  Bolt,"  which  was  duly 
published  in  the  "New  York  Mirror" 
of  September  2, 1843,  with  a  few  com- 
mendatory words  (by  way  of  compen- 
sation) from  the  editors,  and  signed 
with  the  author's  initials,  "T.  D.  E." 
"Ben  Bolt"  was  set  to  music  at  least 
three  times.  The  first  version,  which 
never  was  published,  was  made  by 
Dominick  M.  H.  May,  of  Baltimore, 
a  young  composer  who  at  the  time  re- 
88 


OBen  -Bolt 


sided  in  Washington.  In  1848  a  mel- 
ody composed  by  English  himself  was 
printed  in  Philadelphia,  but  it  was  not 
a  success.  The  tune  which  carried 
"Ben  Bolt"  to  the  farthest  ends  of  the 
English-speaking  world  had  appeared 
two  years  before.  It  was  a  German 
melody  which  had  been  adapted  to  the 
words,  or  rather  to  a  garbled  version 
of  them,  by  a  strolling  minstrel  per- 
former named  Nelson  Kneass. 
This  Kneass  came  of  a  good  family, 
which  had  disowned  him  for  going  on 
the  stage.  He  was  a  brother  of  Horn 
B.  Kneass,  who  at  one  time  was  United 
States  District  Attorney  for  Eastern 
Pennsylvania.  Kneass  had  a  sweet 
tenor  voice  and  became  a  favorite,  but 
always  was  more  or  less  of  a  rover. 
While  appearing  at  a  theatre  in  Pitts- 
burg he  was  told  by  the  manager,  who 
was  preparing  to  produce  a  play  by  a 
local  writer  entitled  "The  Battle  of 
Buena  Vista,"  that  if  he  could  get  a 
new  song  he  would  be  cast  in  the 

89 


jfamou{2i  American  ^onggi 

piece.  One  of  the  hangers-on  at  the 
theatre  was  a  former  EngUsh  news- 
paper man,  A.  M.  Hunt.  The  minstrel 
consulted  him  about  words,  and  Hunt 
told  him  that  he  had  read  some  years 
before  in  a  newspaper  in  England  a 
poem  called  "Ben  Bolt"  of  which  he 
remembered  enough  to  be  able  to  piece 
it  out  for  music.  Kneass  told  him  to 
go  ahead,  and  Hunt  produced  three 
stanzas,  made  up  in  part  of  the  origi- 
nal, in  part  of  lines  which  Hunt  sup- 
plied himself.  Kneass  adapted  a  Ger- 
man melody  to  them,  sang  the  piece 
in  the  play,  where  it  made  a  great  hit, 
and  it  became  almost  instantaneously 
popular.  Afterwards  the  music  and  the 
garbled  version  were  published,  and  to 
this  day  the  song  is  printed  with  the 
incorrect  words.  Two  of  the  lines  which 
Hunt  had  remembered  correctly, 

And  the  shaded  nook  by  the  running  brook, 
Where  the  children  used  to  swim, 

were  changed  at  the  insistence  of  the 
publisher,  who  objected  that  to  sing 
90 


THOMAS    DUNN    ENGLISH,    IN   OLD    AGE 


xen  T5olt 


about  children  in  swimming  would  of- 
fend the  sense  of  delicacy  of  some  of 
his  customers.  In  consequence  the  na- 
tatory diversions  of  the  young  hope- 
fuls were  eliminated  from  the  printed 
version,  and  the  youngsters  have 
not  been  permitted  to  go  in  swim- 
ming since— at  least  not  in  the  song! 
Kneass  received  little  for  the  musical 
setting.  He  continued  his  wandering 
life,  until  he  died  at  Chillicothe,  Mis- 
souri, where  he  had  "stranded"  with  a 
theatrical  troupe.  He  was  buried  there, 
and  his  headstone  proclaims  him  the 
author  of  "Ben  Bolt."  But  as  he  nei- 
ther wrote  the  words  nor  composed 
the  music,  the  attribution  seems  some- 
what far-fetched. 

As  most  people  know  "Ben  Bolt" 
through  the  song  only,  and  as  Dr.  Eng- 
lish's original  is  far  superior  to  the 
garbled  version,  it  seems  only  just  that 
it  should  be  given  here  as  he  wrote  it : 


91 


jfamoug  american  ^ongj^ 

Don't  you  remember  sweet  Alice,  Ben  Bolt?  — 

Sweet  Alice,  whose  hair  was  so  brown. 
Who  wept  with  delight  when  you  gave  her  a  smile, 

And  trembled  with  fear  at  your  frown  1 
In  the  old  churchyard,  in  the  valley,  Ben  Bolt, 

In  a  comer  obscure  and  alone. 
They  have  fitted  a  slab  of  the  granite  so  gray, 

And  Alice  lies  under  the  stone  I 

Under  the  hickory  tree,  Ben  Bolt, 

Which  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
Together  we've  lain  in  the  noonday  shade, 

And  listened  to  Appleton's  mill. 
The  mill-wheel  has  fallen  to  pieces,  Ben  Bolt, 

The  rafters  have  tumbled  in. 
And  a  quiet  that  crawls  round  the  walls  as  you  gaze 

Has  followed  the  olden  din. 

Do  you  mind  the  cabin  of  logs,  Ben  Bolt, 

At  the  edge  of  the  pathless  wood. 
And  the  button-ball  tree  with  its  motley  limbs, 

Which  nigh  by  the  doorstep  stood  ? 
The  cabin  to  ruin  has  gone,  Ben  Bolt, 

The  tree  you  would  seek  in  vain ; 
And  where  once  the  lords  of  the  forest  waved. 

Grows  grass  and  the  golden  grain. 

And  don't  you  remember  the  school,  Ben  Bolt, 

With  the  master  so  cruel  and  grim, 
And  the  shaded  nook  by  the  running  brook, 

Where  the  children  went  to  swim? 
Grass  grows  on  the  master's  grave,  Ben  Bolt, 

The  spring  of  the  brook  is  dry. 
And  of  all  the  boys  who  were  schoolmates  then, 

There  are  only  you  and  I. 

92 


l$en  OBolt 

There  is  change  in  the  things  I  loved,  Ben  Bolt, 

They  have  changed  from  the  old  to  the  new ; 
But  I  feel  in  the  depth  of  my  spirit  the  truth, 

There  never  was  change  in  you. 
Twelvemonths  twenty  have  past,  Ben  Bolt, 

Since  first  we  were  friends  —  yet  I  hail 
Thy  presence  a  blessing,  thy  friendship  a  truth, 

Ben  Bolt  of  the  salt-sea  gale  1 

It  will  be  noticed  that  in  the  poem 
the  schoolmaster  is  "cruel  and  grim," 
while  in  the  song  he  became  "kind 
and  true,"  a  weakening  of  the  original 
which  is  found  in  every  change  in 
Hunt's  version.  The  change  to  which 
English  himself  objected  most  was 
the  elimination  of  the  two  lines  be- 
ginning "And  a  quiet  that  crawls," 
which  he  considered  the  one  touch  of 
real  poetic  value  in  his  stanzas.  But 
in  spite  of  the  poor  opinion  which  its 
author  held  of  "Ben  Bolt,"  it  is  easy  to 
account  for  its  popularity  past  and 
present.  The  lines  have  an  easy  swing, 
the  reiteration  of  the  name  "Ben  Bolt" 
is  effective,  and  the  whole  voices  the 
vain  regrets  with  which,  in  later  years, 
every  one  is  apt  to  look  back  upon  a 

93 


famow  amertcan  ^ongjS 

youth  that  is  gone  forever.  William 
Vincent  Wallace,  the  composer  of 
"Maritana,"  wrote  a  piano  fantasy  on 
"Ben  Bolt"  which  has  attained  the 
distinction  of  being  included  in  what 
I  may  call  the  **  clothes- wringer"  re- 
pertory. For  it  has  been  "perforated," 
and  put  on  a  roll,  and  thus  can  be 
ground  out  on  the  mechanical  piano. 
"Perforated"  fame  is  the  grand  mod- 
ern test  of  popularity.  Let  struggling 
poets  and  disheartened  composers 
cheer  up.  For  in  these  modern  days 
every  cloud  has  a  "perforated"  lin- 
ing! 
During  the  "Trilby"  craze  the  re- 
quests for  Dr.  English's  autographs 
became  so  numerous  that,  owing  to 
an  affection  of  the  eyes  which  re- 
sulted in  almost  total  blindness,— it 
being  painful  for  him  even  to  write  his 
signature, — he  was  obliged  to  send 
a  set  printed  declination  in  reply.  Be- 
fore he  adopted  this  method  he  re- 
ceived a  request  from  a  woman  not 
94 


'Ben  :Bolt 


only  for  his  autograph,  but  also  for  a 
lock  of  his  hair.  To  this  he  replied 
that  as  he  just  had  paid  a  visit  to  his 
barber,  who  had  cut  off  his  hair  at 
both  ends,  she  would  have  to  wait  un- 
til he  had  grown  a  new  crop.  Another 
woman  wrote  him  that  she  long  had 
wondered  whether  the  original  Alice 
was  as  sweet  and  charming  as  the 
one  portrayed  in  the  poem ;  and  was 
she  pretty?  As  there  was  no  original 
Alice,  these  questions  remained  un- 
answered. 

Although  Dr.  English  was  anything 
but  methodical,  he  liked  to  be  consid- 
ered so.  He  had  a  set  of  pigeonholes 
over  his  desk  all  carefully  labelled, 
but  the  contents  were  apt  not  to  cor- 
respond with  the  labels.  Thus  under 
"Statistics"  would  be  found  a  pack- 
age of  Little  Dahlias  for  his  garden. 

His  wife,  whom  he  survived,  was  a 
fine  pianist,  a  pupil  of  William  Mason. 
After  her  death  it  greatly  depressed 
Dr.  English  to  hear  the  piano  played, 

95 


famm^  american  ^ongjsi 


and  to  spare  his  feelings  the  instru- 
ment was  kept  on  the  third  floor  of 
the  house. 

The  doctor  was  nothing  of  a  poseur. 
Once  when  a  canvasser  for  an  61ite 
directory  called  for  his  name  and  sub- 
scription, his  reply  was,  "Get  out  of 
here,  we  don't  belong  to  the  61itel" 
One  of  his  idiosyncrasies  was  his  in- 
sistence on  making  his  own  ink,  and 
he  used  to  say  that  he  would  have 
made  a  fortune  if  he  had  started  an 
ink  factory.  When,  in  1890,  he  was 
elected  a  Representative  in  Congress 
from  the  Essex  district  of  New  Jersey, 
he  found  that,  notwithstanding  his 
own  low  estimate  of  **Ben  Bolt,"much 
courtesy  was  shown  him  as  its  author, 
some  of  the  members  telling  him  that 
when  they  were  children,  their  mo- 
thers had  sung  it  to  them.  He  used  to 
relate  that  soon  after  the  song  was 
published,  a  ship,  a  steamboat  and  a 
race  horse  were  named  after  it ;  add- 
ing, "The  ship  was  wrecked,  the  steam- 
96 


^^a.  ^«Cvt^  *,rCX4  Cr*''uCf'?yycu3zijSV^/lf  ^  ^*^</*i^ 


FACSIMILE   OF    AN    / 

Reproduced  by  permission  from  the 
the   Rev.  Arthur  Howard  Noll,  of 


OR  S    COPY    OF    "BEN    BOLT" 

.script  in  possession  of  the  author's  son-in-law, 
Jniversity  of  the  South,  Sewanee,  Tennessee 


I3en  -Bolt 


boat  blew  up,  and  the  horse  never  won  a 
race"— all  of  which  was  true.  He  con- 
sidered these  untoward  events  in  some 
way  in  accord  with  his  own  ill  luck  in 
never  having  made  a  penny  out  of  the 
poem. 

H  is  greatest  diversion  was  gardening, 
and  even  in  Newark,  where  he  passed 
his  latter  years,  with  his  daughter  as 
sole  companion  and  amanuensis,  he 
had  his  little  garden  plot,  which  al- 
ways was  in  bloom  during  the  season. 
Here  one  autumn,  although  he  was 
nearly  blind,  he  planted  lilies.  "I  doubt 
if  I  live  to  see  them,"  he  remarked  to 
his  daughter.  Nor  did  he.  Before  they 
bloomed  he  was  in  his  grave. 


97 


Ci^e  ^tar^'^panfileD  isanntv 


V 


Banner 


VER  a  grave  in  Frederick, 
Maryland,  the  American  flag 
floats  every  day  of  the  year 
and  is  reverently  renewed  on 
each  Memorial  Day.  The  grave  is  that 
of  Francis  Scott  Key,  author  of ''  The 
Star-Spangled  Banner."  At  one  time 
the  flag  was  the  only  monument  to 
him  in  his  native  state.  Indeed  the  first 
sculptured  memorial  to  the  author  of 
our  national  song  was  erected  in  a 
state  which  was  foreign  territory  when 
the  song  was  written.  It  was  the  gift 
of  a  private  individual,  James  Lick, 
and  looks  out  upon  the  Pacific  from 
Golden  Gate  Park,  San  Francisco. 
There  could  not,  however,  be  a  nobler 
monument  to  Key  than  the  flag  that 
ever  floats  over  his  grave,  nor  one  more 
appropriate.  Nor  is  it  by  any  means 

zoz 


famom  amer(can  ^ongis 


unfitting  that  the  first  sculptured  mon- 
ument to  him  should  have  been  erected 
on  a  site  which  was  not  even  part  of 
the  United  States  when  "The  Star- 
Spangled  Banner"  was  written.  It 
shows  how  wholly  national  the  song 
has  become.  It  follows  the  flag! 

Key  was  a  lawyer  by  profession,  and 
in  his  day  argued  some  notable  cases. 
As  a  poet  he  was  a  dilettante.  Yet  his 
professional  achievements  are  forgot- 
ten, and  he  lives  in  a  poem  inspired  by 
chance  circumstance.  Indeed,  Preble, 
who  wrote  a  book  on  the  American 
flag,  went  out  of  his  way  to  argue  that 
the  poem  lacked  the  qualities  of  a  na- 
tional anthem  because  it  referred  to  a 
special  occasion.  Yet  every  evening  at 
sunset,  when  the  garrison  flags  of  the 
United  States  are  lowered, — in  Porto 
Rico,  on  Governor's  Island,  at  the 
Presidio,  in  the  Philippines,—  the  band 
plays  "The  Star-Spangled  Banner," 
and  the  same  thing  occurs  on  the  flag- 
ship of  every  United  States  naval 

Z02 


FRANCIS   SCOTT    KEY 


squadron,  in  whatever  part  of  the 
world  it  may  be.  Preble  failed  to  dis- 
cern that,  although  the  poem  was  in- 
spired by  an  actual  event  of  which  Key 
was  a  thrilled  spectator,  it  neverthe- 
less is  broadly  symbolic  of  American 
patriotism  and,  withal,  neither  boast- 
ful nor  threatening,  its  sentiments  be- 
ing based  upon  right  and  justice,  so 
that  now  it  is  taught  probably  in  every 
public  school  in  the  land  as  an  exalted 
expression  of  love  of  country. 

"The  Star-Spangled  Banner"  came 
straight  from  the  heart  of  a  patriot. 
Remarkable  indeed  were  the  circum- 
stances which  inspired  in  this  dilet- 
tante author  of  a  few  devotional  songs 
and  some  trifles  in  verse,  addressed  to 
friends  and  members  of  his  family,  a 
burst  of  poetry  destined  to  thrill  a 
whole  people  and  to  expand  with  the 
boundaries  of  the  country.  They  form 
a  sequence  of  events  as  dramatic  in 
their  outcome  as  the  climax  in  a  well 
constructed  play. 

X03 


jTamoug  amertcan  ^ongg 

When  in  August,  1814,  Admiral  Cock- 
burn  and  his  fleet  returned  from  the 
West  Indies  to  the  coast  of  the  United 
States,  he  notified  James  Monroe,  then 
Secretary  of  State  at  Washington, 
that,  at  the  request  of  the  Governor- 
General  of  Canada,  he  would  take  mea- 
sures of  retaliation  for  what  he  char- 
acterized as  the  "wanton destruction" 
committed  by  the  American  army  in 
upper  Canada.  The  British  fleet  at  the 
time  was  in  the  Patuxent  River,  which 
empties  into  the  Chesapeake,  so  that 
the  towns  which  Cockburn  threatened 
to  "destroy  and  lay  waste"  were  Bal- 
timore, Washington  and  Annapolis. 
The  first  object  of  his  vindictive  ex- 
pedition was  the  capital  of  the  coun- 
try. Cockburn's  military  forces  landed 
at  Benedict's,  on  the  Patuxent.  The 
first  day's  march  brought  them  to  Not- 
tingham, the  second  to  Upper  Marl- 
borough. One  of  the  prominent  resi- 
dents of  that  place  was  Dr.  William 
Beanes,  who  was  destined  to  play  a 
Z04 


Cl^e  ^tay-^^pangleP  ^Banner 

conspicuous  r61e  in  the  events  which 
later  were  to  result  in  the  writing  of 
"The  Star-Spangled  Banner."  Several 
officers  of  high  rank  were  quartered 
upon  him.  Although  they  were  unwel- 
come guests  they  were  courteously 
treated  and  entertained. 
Meanwhile  an  American  army  was 
concentrating  at  Bladensburg.  Some 
of  the  regiments,  as  they  arrived,  were 
assigned  to  their  positions  by  a  hand- 
some young  aide-de-camp,  none  other 
than  Francis  Scott  Key,  who,  though 
a  lawyer,  had  volunteered  for  military 
duty.  That  the  Americans  were  de- 
feated by  the  British  under  Ross,  who 
burned  the  public  buildings  in  Wash- 
ington, is  history.  But  enough  energy 
remained  in  the  force  which  had  been 
dispersed  at  Bladensburg  to  attempt 
the  interception  of  the  British  when 
they  should  withdraw  to  their  ships. 
This  led  Ross,  for  fear  he  might  have 
to  encounter  an  entrenched  enemy  in 
his  rear,  to  order  the  withdrawal  of 

105 


f amoujS  antcrican  ^ongiJ 


his  troops  from  the  capital  by  forced 
marches.  A  violent  storm  broke  during 
the  night,  and  the  following  morning 
the  troops  looked  more  as  if  they  were 
retreating  than  an  army  withdrawing 
after  a  victory  and  the  sacking  of  the 
enemy's  capital. 

Their  appearance  deceived  the  good 
people  of  Upper  Marlborough,  and 
when,  after  the  main  body  of  the  troops 
had  passed  through  the  town,  three 
stragglers  stopped  to  drink  at  a  spring 
on  Dr.  Beanes'  grounds,  the  doctor, 
who  was  celebrating  with  some  friends 
the  supposed  discomfiture  of  the 
enemy,  had  them  seized  and  confined 
in  jail.  One  of  them,  however,  escaped, 
fell  in  with  a  party  of  British  cavalry, 
and  notified  them  of  the  violence  to 
which  he  and  his  comrades  had  been 
subjected,  with  the  result  that  the 
cavalrymen  rode  back  to  Upper  Marl- 
borough and  not  only  freed  the  two 
soldiers,  but,  furthermore,  roused  Dr. 
Beanes  from  his  bed  at  midnight  and 
zod 


KEY'S   GRAVE    AT    FREDERICK,    MARYLAND,    OVER    WHICH 
THE   FLAG     FLOATS 


Ci^e  ^tar^^pangleD  Banner 

bore  him  away  a  captive  to  Admiral 
Cockburn.  Indeed,  it  looked  very  much 
as  if  Dr.  Beanes  were  destined  to  swing 
from  the  yardarm  of  a  British  frigate. 
The  worthy  doctor,  who,  it  must  be 
confessed,  had  been  guilty  of  hasty  and 
indiscreet  conduct,  to  say  the  least, 
was  what  is  known  as  a  "prominent 
citizen."  Moreover  he  was  an  inti- 
mate friend  of  Francis  Scott  Key, 
who  at  once  applied  to  the  Govern- 
ment for  permission  to  attempt  to  se- 
cure his  release.  A  vessel  at  Baltimore 
which  was  used  as  a  flag  of  truce  for 
the  exchange  of  prisoners,  and  was  in 
charge  of  John  S.  Skinner  as  com- 
missioner, was  placed  at  Key's  dis- 
posal. When  the  ship  dropped  down 
the  Chesapeake  to  the  British  fleet, 
Admiral  Cockburn  was  preparing  for 
the  expedition  against  Baltimore.  Key 
preferred  his  request  for  his  friend's 
release,  and  was  informed  that  Dr. 
Beanes  would  have  been  strung  up  on 
a  yardarm  but  for  his  courtesy  as  a 

107 


host,  and  the  fact,  which  had  been  as- 
certained since  he  had  been  appre- 
hended, that  several  British  officers 
wounded  at  Bladensburg  had  been 
skilfully  treated  by  him.  He  would  be 
released,  but  neither  he  nor  Key  would 
be  allowed  to  return  to  Baltimore,  be- 
cause of  a  certain  important  event 
then  impending.  This  of  course  was 
the  projected  attack  on  the  city,  of 
which  Admiral  Cockburn  did  not  wish 
its  defenders  forewarned.  Accordingly 
the  three  Americans  were  for  the 
time  placed  on  board  H.  M.  S.  Sur- 
prise. Key  was  informed  that  as  soon 
as  the  fleet  reached  its  destination, 
only  a  few  hours  would  elapse  before 
he  would  be  allowed  to  land,  for  Ad- 
miral Cockburn  considered  that  the 
reduction  of  Fort  McHenry,  by  which 
Baltimore  was  defended,  would  be  an 
easy  matter.  He  little  knew  that  the 
attack  was  destined  to  become  fa- 
mous in  American  history  for  an  en- 
tirely different  reason. 
io8 


The  fleet  moved  up  the  Chesapeake 
and  at  North  Point  disembarked  the 
military  forces  for  the  land  attack 
on  the  city.  On  Tuesday  morning, 
September  13,  1814,  the  British  war- 
ships in  semi-circular  battle  forma- 
tion ranged  themselves  across  the  Pa- 
tapsco,  at  a  distance  of  about  two 
and  a  half  miles  off  the  fort,  which, 
although  a  small  affair  of  brick  and 
earth,  lay  low  and  squat  like  a  bull- 
dog on  guard,  on  a  projecting  point  of 
land.  When  the  fleet  had  formed  for 
the  attack,  the  three  Americans  were 
allowed  to  go  aboard  their  own  ves- 
sel, but  were  not  permitted  to  land. 

The  British  ships  would  have  been 
well  within  range  of  modern  ordnance, 
but  the  42-pounders  with  which  the 
fort  was  armed  in  1814  could  not  reach 
the  fleet,  so  that  the  Americans  were 
unable  to  reply  to  the  bombardment 
that  lasted  from  Tuesday  morning  un- 
til after  the  following  midnight.  Key, 
who  from  his  residence  in  Georgetown 

109 


had  seen  less  than  a  month  before  the 
light  of  the  burning  buildings  in  Wash- 
ington, knew  the  fate  in  store  for  Balti- 
more if  the  attack  succeeded,  and  the 
feelings  with  which  the  three  Ameri- 
cans from  the  deck  of  their  vessel 
watched  the  bombardment  may  well 
be  imagined.  Moreover  Key  had  a  deep 
personal  concern  in  the  result.  The  fort 
was  defended  by  a  small  force  of  re- 
gulars supplemented  by  volunteer  ar- 
tillerists, the  latter  under  command  of 
Judge  Nicholson,  who  was  Key's  bro- 
ther-in-law. 

The  strain  upon  the  three  Americans 
who  followed  the  bombardment  from 
the  deck  of  their  cartel  was  tremen- 
dous. To  them  the  little  fort  subjected 
to  attack  both  from  land  and  water, 
and  unable  to  reply  to  the  fire  of  the 
fleet,  seemed  doomed,  and  with  it  the 
city  itself.  But  at  sunset  the  flag  still 
waved  from  the  ramparts.  Sleep  was 
out  of  the  question.  It  was  driven  from 
their  minds  not  only  by  the  noise  of 
no 


Ci^e  ^tar^^pangleP  ^Banner 

the  bursting  bombs,  but  also  by  the 
tension  to  which  they  were  subjected. 
Would  the  flag  upon  which  their  eyes 
had  rested  at  the  last  gleam  of  twi- 
light, still  fling  its  stars  and  stripes  to 
the  morning  air,  or  would  the  fort  have 
surrendered?  These  questions  forced 
themselves  upon  Key  and  his  com- 
panions as  they  paced  the  deck. 

After  midnight  there  was  a  cessation 
of  firing.  An  hour  later  it  was  renewed 
with  terrific  force  and  at  closer  quar- 
ters. Toward  dawn  it  ceased.  Had  the 
fort  been  demolished,  or  the  enemy 
driven  back? So  long  as  the  firing  con- 
tinued it  was  evident  that  the  Ameri- 
cans were  holding  out.  But  now  the 
suspense  was  terrible.  At  dawn  vapors 
still  shrouded  the  shore  from  the 
straining  eyes  of  the  three  Americans ; 
but  at  seven  o'clock  a  rift  disclosed 
the  flag  still  proudly  floating  above 
the  ramparts.  The  attack  had  failed. 

This  was  the  supreme  moment. 
Thrilled  by  it,  Key  drew  a  letter  from 

III 


jfamoug  amertcan  ^ottj^ 

his  pocket  and  on  the  back  of  it  wrote 
the  first  stanza  of  his  immortal  poem. 
He  himself  was  not  aware  of  just 
what  had  happened.  All  he  knew  was 
that  the  flag  "was  still  there."  But 
soon  after  midnight  Admiral  Cockburn 
had  received  word  that  the  land  at- 
tack on  the  fort  had  been  repulsed  and 
Ross  killed,  and  that,  unless  the  works 
could  be  reduced  by  the  fleet,  the  ex- 
pedition would  end  in  failure.  This  ac- 
counted for  the  fierce  bombardment 
at  close  quarters  which  had  begun  at 
one  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  in 
which  sixteen  British  frigates  with  a 
full  complement  of  bomb-ketches  and 
barges  had  taken  part.  The  crisis  was 
reached  when  a  portion  of  the  enemy's 
forces  attempted  to  steal  up  the  north 
channel  to  the  city.  They  passed  the 
fort  unnoticed,  and  believing  their  ruse 
successful  began  cheering  derisively. 
But  they  made  the  mistake  of  cele- 
brating their  expected  triumph  too 
soon.  The  cheers  disclosed  their  pur- 

112 


THE   STAR-SPANGLED    BANNER    WHICH    INSPIRED    THE    SONG 


pose  to  the  gunners  of  a  small  water 
battery  at  what  is  known  as  the  Laza- 
retto, who  promptly  opened  fire  and 
put  the  enemy  out  of  action. 

In  the  boat  which  took  him  ashore 
Key  finished  the  poem,  and  that  night, 
at  a  hotel  in  Baltimore,  he  revised  it, 
making  a  few  changes  which  left  it 
substantially  as  it  now  is.  The  fol- 
lowing morning  he  showed  it  to  his 
brother-in-law.  Judge  Joseph  Hopper 
Nicholson,  whose  appreciation  of  the 
sentiments  that  breathe  through  the 
lines  was  all  the  keener  because  he  had 
been  one  of  the  defenders  of  the  fort. 
Nicholson  at  once  took  it  to  the  office 
of  Benjamin  Edes,  printer,  where  it 
was  set  up  in  the  form  of  a  handbill  by 
an  apprentice  named  Samuel  Sands, 
all  the  men  in  the  printing-office  hav- 
ing volunteered  for  the  defence  of  the 
fort  and  not  yet  having  returned  to 
work. 

On  the  handbill  the  poem  was  sur- 
rounded by  an  elliptical  border  out- 

"3 


ifamoug  amet(can  ^ongg 

side  of  which  "Bombardment  of  Fort 
McHenry"  was  printed  as  a  title,  and, 
in  the  ellipsis,  "Written  by  Francis 
Scott  Key,  of  Georgetown,  D.  C."  In 
reading  over  the  poem  Judge  Nichol- 
son perceived  that  the  tune  of  the  old 
English  drinking-song,  "Anacreon  in 
Heaven,"  which  had  been  used  before 
in  this  country  as  a  setting  for  the  pa- 
triotic song  "Adams  and  Liberty,'* 
was  well  adapted  to  the  metre  of  "The 
Star-Spangled  Banner,"  and  he  indi- 
cated the  tune  on  the  handbill.  These 
facts,  of  which  I  have  been  apprised 
through  the  courtesy  of  Mrs.  Edward 
Shippen,  of  Baltimore,  who  is  a  grand- 
daughter of  Judge  Nicholson  and  a 
grandniece  of  Key,  and  who  owns  a 
copy  of  the  first  handbill  as  well  as  the 
original  manuscript  of  the  poem,  dis- 
poses of  the  claim  that  Ferdinand  Du- 
rang,  an  actor  at  the  Holiday  Street 
Theatre,  Baltimore,  suggested  the 
tune  of  "Anacreon"  for  Key's  poem, 
although  it  is  not  unlikely  that  he  was 
114 


the  first  person  to  sing  it  publicly  from 
the  stage  of  that  theatre. 

The  original  manuscript,  written  on 
the  back  of  an  unsigned  letter,  shows 
how  few  were  the  changes  which  Key 
found  it  necessary  to  make  in  the  poem 
he  wrote  under  the  inspiration  of  that 
thrilling  moment  when  he  saw  the 
flag  of  his  country  still  waving  over 
Fort  McHenry.  In  the  first  stanza 
there  is  a  change  of  only  one  word. 
He  had  written  ** through"  instead  of 
"by  the  dawn's  early  light."  In  the 
third  stanza  he  had  started  to  write, 
"They  have  washed  out  with  blood," 
&c.  This  he  changed  to  read,  "Their 
blood  has  wash'd  out  their  foul  foot- 
steps' pollution." 

About  1840  Key  made  some  manu- 
script copies  of  the  poem,  and  then  in- 
troduced a  few  minor  changes.  But 
as  corrected  in  the  original  in  Mrs. 
Shippen's  possession,  and  here  repro- 
duced with  her  permission,  it  reads  as 
follows: 

115 


ifamou0  american  ^ongjs 

O  say  can  you  see  by  the  dawn's  early  light 
What  so  proudly  we  hailed  at  the  twilight's  last  gleam- 

Whose  broad  stripes  and  bright  stars  through  the  perilous 
fight 
O'er  the  ramparts  we  watch'd  were  so  gallantly  stream- 
ing? 
And  the  rocket's  red  glare,  the  bomb  bursting  in  air 
Gave  proof  through  the  night  that  our  flag  was  still 
there. 
O  say  does  the  star-spangled  banner  still  wiave 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave? 

On  the  shore  dimly  seen  through  the  mists  of  the  deep, 

Where  the  foe's  haughty  host  in  deep  silence  reposes. 
What  is  that  which  the  breeze,  o'er  the  towering  steep, 
As  it  fitfully  blows  half  conceals,  half  discloses  ? 
Now^  it  catches  the  gleam  of  the  morning's  first  beam, 
In  full  glory  reflected  now  shines  in  the  stream. 
'T  is  the  star-spanglsd  banner  —  O  long  may  it  wave 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave  1 

And  where  is  that  band  who  so  vauntingly  swore 
That  the  havoc  of  war  and  the  battle's  confusion 
A  home  and  a  Country  should  leave  us  no  more? 
Their  blood  has  wash'd  out  their  foul  footsteps'  pollution. 
No  refuge  could  save  the  hireling  and  slave 
From  the  terror  of  flight  and  the  gloom  of  the  g^rave. 
And  the  star-spangled  banner  in  triumph  doth  wave 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave. 

O  thus  be  it  ever  when  freemen  shall  stand 

Between  their  lov'd  home  and  the  war's  desolation  I 
Blest  with  vict'ry  and  peace  may  the  Heav'n-rescued  land 
Praise  the  power  that  hath  made  and  preseiVd  us  a  na- 
tion! 
ii6 


Ci^e  ^tar-'^pangleD  Banner 

Then  conquer  we  must,  when  our  cause  it  is  just, 
And  this  be  our  motto  :  "In  God  is  our  trust." 
And  the  star-spangled  banner  in  triumph  shall  wave 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave. 

After  the  Spanish  War,  when  it  be- 
came known  that  England  had  held 
out  against  a  proposed  European  co- 
alition the  obj  ect  of  which  was  to  bring 
pressure  upon  us  to  prevent  our  going 
to  war,  the  old  spirit  of  hostility  to- 
ward our  mother  country  vanished, 
and  a  ** blood  is  thicker  than  water" 
sentiment,  which  seems  to  be  endur- 
ing, happily  was  substituted  for  the 
old-time  rancor.  This  led  to  the  drop- 
ping of  the  spirited  third  stanza,  in 
which  Key  anathematizes  the  Eng- 
lish, from  some  of  the  common  school 
readers.  This  fact  lately  having  come 
to  public  notice  has  roused  much  re- 
sentment, and  it  is  likely  that  Key's 
poem  will  be  restored  to  its  original 
form  by  legislative  enactment  through- 
out the  country.  The  trouble  really 
dates  back  farther  than  the  Spanish 

117 


jTamoujS  American  ^ongg 

War,  for  the  original  emasculator  of 
"The  Star-Spangled  Banner"  was, 
curiously  enough,  that  good  Ameri- 
can, Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  who,  in 
1866,  interpolated  stanzas  referring  to 
the  Civil  War  and  its  outcome.  This 
version  found  its  way  into  many  school 
readers,  with  the  odd  result  that,  in 
1903,  some  Confederate  veterans  at- 
tending a  school  celebration  in  New 
Orleans  were  astounded,  when  the  ex- 
ercises opened  with  the  singing  of 
"The  Star-Spangled  Banner,"  to  hear 
themselves  execrated  by  their  own 
grandchildren  for  the  part  they  had 
played  in  the  great  struggle.  As  the 
result  of  a  protest  from  the  United 
Confederate  Veterans,  at  least  one 
publishing  house  went  to  an  expense 
of  about  six  thousand  dollars  to  issue 
a  new  edition  of  its  school  readers 
without  the  Holmes  stanzas.  The 
trouble  was,  however,  that  the  original 
third  stanza,  for  which  Holmes'  lines 
hadbeensubstituted,  was  not  restored. 
118 


In  all  respects  Francis  Scott  Key 
was  worthy  of  the  honor  which  "The 
Star-Spangled  Banner"  has  brought 
to  his  name.  He  not  only  was  a  man 
of  great  personal  charm,  he  bore  an  un- 
blemished reputation.  That  frequently 
misapplied  term  "an  ideal  Christian 
gentleman"  appears  to  have  fitted  him 
to  perfection.  He  was  a  gentleman  by 
birth  and  breeding,  and  a  Christian 
both  in  his  faith  and  his  conduct.  It 
was  through  his  influence  that  John 
Randolph,  who  had  become  inocu- 
lated with  the  doctrines  of  Voltaire 
and  his  followers,  turned  back  to  his 
old  belief.  "Were  I  Premier,"  wrote 
Randolph  to  Key,  "  I  certainly  should 
translate  you  to  the  See  of  Canter- 
bury." 

Key  was  born  in  Frederick  County, 
Maryland,  in  August,  1780.  He  died  at 
Baltimore  on  January  11, 1843.  A  rem- 
nant of  the  flag  which  thrilled  his  vi- 
sion on  that  memorable  morning  in 
September,  1814,  still  exists.  It  is  thirty- 

119 


two  feet  in  length  by  twenty-nine  feet 
in  the  hoist.  It  is  believed  originally  to 
have  been  at  least  forty  feet  long  and 
thirty  feet  in  the  hoist.  Its  great  size 
is  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  it  had 
fifteen  stripes,  each  nearly  two  feet 
wide,  with  fifteen  five-pointed  stars, 
each  two  feet  from  point  to  point.  In 
those  days  a  stripe,  as  well  as  a  star, 
was  added  to  the  flag  for  each  new 
state.  Later  it  was  seen  that  the  flag 
would  become  unwieldy  if  the  number 
of  stripes  was  further  increased,  and 
thirteen,  the  number  of  the  original 
states,  was  fixed  upon  as  the  limit. 
The  Fort  McHenry  flag  was  made 
by  Mrs.  Mary  Pickersgill,  whose  mo- 
ther, Rebecca  Young,  made  the  first 
flag  of  the  American  Revolution  under 
Washington's  direction.  Mrs.  Pick- 
ersgill took  care  to  have  the  top- 
ping of  the  flag  especially  strong,  and 
doubtless  it  was  due  to  this  precaution 
that,  although  a  bomb  and  a  fragment 
of  another  passed  through  the  flag,  it 

120 


was  not  torn  from  the  staff.  The  hole 
and  the  rent  can  be  seen  in  the  part 
of  the  star-spangled  banner  still  in  ex- 
istence and  said  to  be  in  the  posses- 
sion of  a  descendant  of  the  gallant 
Armistead  who  commanded  the  gar- 
rison. 

Key's  song  immediately  became  pop- 
ular. Within  a  few  months  after  the 
bombardment  of  Fort  McHenry  it  was 
played  by  one  of  the  bands  at  the 
battle  of  New  Orleans.  It  has  thrilled 
the  American  soldier  and  sailor  on 
many  an  historic  occasion.  It  figured 
too  in  the  tragedy  at  Apea,  Samoa. 
When  the  Trenton,  herself  doomed 
and  at  the  mercy  of  the  hurricane,  bore 
down  upon  the  stranded  Vandalia,  a 
burst  of  music  was  heard  through  the 
darkness  and  above  the  storm.  'Twas 
the  band  on  the  wave-swept  deck  of 
the  flagship  playing  the  "The  Star- 
Spangled  Banner"! 

No  other  nation  possesses  so  noble 
an  apostrophe  to  the  flag.  It  is  neither 

121 


jfamou{si  american  ^onggi 

boastful  nor  vindictive.  It  breathes  the 
most  exalted  spirit  of  patriotism,  but 
it  also  appeals  to  justice  and  to  the 
Power  above.  For  it  is  the  work  of  a 
man  who  loved  his  country  and,  no  less, 
his  God. 


122 


ganfeee  ©ooDle 
l^ail  Columbia  and  amettca 


vr 


a 


,» 


^^l^afl  Columbia"  and  ^^ametica" 


jalsehoods  probably 
have  been  written  about 
"Yankee  Doodle"  than  a- 
bout  any  other  song.  It  has 
been  said  that  the  tune  originally  was 
known  as  "Fisher's  Jig,"  named  after 
Kitty  Fisher,  "abeauty  of  Charles  II's 
time,"  and  that  it  is  to  be  found  in 
Walsh's  "Collection  of  Dances,"  for 
1750.  Unfortunately  Kitty  Fischer  (not 
Fisher)  was  not  a  beau ty  of  Charles  11  's 
time.  The  only  Kitty  Fischer  who  was 
at  all  a  public  character  was  married 
in  1766  to  a  Mr.  Norris,  and  died  in 
1771,  probably,  from  what  is  known 
about  her,  of  sudden  respectability. 
There  is  no  "Fisher's  Jig"  in  Walsh's 
book  nor  any  other  tune  resembling 
"Yankee  Doodle." 
,  Still  more  remarkable  is  the  attribu- 


125 


tion  of  Dutch  origin.  It  is  claimed  that 
the  harvesters  in  Holland  received  in 
payment  for  their  labor  a  share  of  the 
grain  they  harvested  and  as  much 
buttermilk  as  they  could  drink;  and 
that  they  voiced  their  joy  in  these 
words,  sung  to  the  tune  of  "Yankee 
Doodle:" 

Yanker,  dudel,  doodle  down, 

Diddle,  dudel,  lanther, 
Yanke  viver,  voover  vown, 

Boter  milk  and  tanther. 

But  these  words  are  neither  Dutch, 
Hiftdustanee  ^ler-Ghoctaw  — -m_jiajc± 
belong  to  no  language  whatever,  net 
even-Vola^uk.  The  claim  is  a  hoax, 
yet  has  gravely  been  incorporated  into 
at  least  one  encyclopaedia  and  several 
books. 

Another  claim  made  is  that  in  Crom- 
well's day  the  Cavaliers  sang, 

Nankee  Doodle  came  to  town, 

On  a  little  pony. 
He  stuck  a  feather  in  his  cap, 

And  called  him  Macaroni 

"Nankee  Doodle"  is  supposed  to  have 
126 


panftee  J^ootile,  etc* 


been  Cromwell,  and  "  Macaroni"  a  de- 
risive reference  to  his  "single  white 
plume."  But  the  Lord  Protector  is  not 
known  to  have  worn  a  single  white 
plume,  while  Macaroni,  as  a  derisive 
sobriquet,  was  not  in  use  in  England 
until  about  the  middle  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  when  it  was  applied 
to  the  fops  of  the  so-called  "maca- 
roni"clubs, —-"composed,"  writes  Wal- 
pole,  "of  all  the  travelled  young  men 
who  wear  long  curls  and  spying 
glasses." 

Attempts  to  derive  it  from  Spain  and 
Hungary  are  unworthy  the  consider- 
ation of  any  one  who  is  at  all  familiar 
with  the  musical  characteristics  of 
those  countries.  In  fact,  about  the  only 
certain  thing  concerning  the  tune  is 
that  the  old  nursery  rhyme, 

Lucy  Locket  lost  her  pocket, 

Kitty  Fisher  found  it ; 
Not  a  bit  of  money  in  it, 

Only  binding  round  it  — 

was  sung  to  it  long  before  the  vogue 

127 


famoujj  american  ^ongjs 


of  the   ''Yankee  Doodle"  words  in 
America. 

Even  that  standard  authority,  Grove, 
makes  a  manifold  error  in  attempting 
to  give  the  first  reference  in  print  to 
''Yankee  Doodle."  It  is  not  the  eariiest 
reference,  he  assigns  the  passage  he 
quotes  to  a  wrong  source,  and  he  does 
not  quote  it  with  entire  accuracy. 
Grove  states  that  it  appeared  in  the 
"Boston  Journal  of  the  Times"  for 
September  29,  1768.  The  obvious  in- 
ference from  this  statement  is  that  the 
reference  was  published  in  a  Boston 
newspaper,  but  there  was  none  of  that 
name.  It  was  one  of  several  captions 
used  as  headlines  to  Boston  corre- 
spondence published  in  the  "  New  York 
Journal;"  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  the 
headline  under  which  the  reference 
to  "Yankee  Doodle"  appeared  was 
"Journal  of  Transactions  in  Boston." 
The  Boston  date-line  is  as  above,  but 
it  was  not  published  until  October  13, 
1768,  in  the  "New  York  Journal:" 
128 


^ani^ee  J^ooDle^  etc» 


"The  Fleet  was  brought  to  Anchor 
near  Castle  William,  that  Evening 
there  was  throwing  of  Sky  Rockets, 
and  those  passing  in  Boats  observed 
great  Rejoicings,  and  that  the  Yankey 
Doodle  Song  was  the  Capital  Piece  in 
their  Band  of  Music." 
The  reference  was  run  to  earth 
by  Mr.  Albert  Matthews  of  Boston, 
whose  brilliant  researches  regarding 
the  word  Yankee  and  the  "Yankee 
Doodle"  song  are  well  known  to  all 
students  of  Americana.  In  this  in- 
stance he  had  the  valuable  assistance 
of  Mr.  Wilberforce  Eames,  of  the  New 
York  Public  Library.  Moreover,  Mr. 
Matthews  has  discovered  an  earlier 
reference  to  "Yankee  Doodle"  in  a 
comic  opera,  "The  Disappointment: 
Or,  the  Force  of  Credulity,"  by  Andrew 
Barton,  in  which  one  of  the  airs  is 
entitled  "Yankee  Doodle."  The  book 
was  published  in  New  York  in  1767, 
and  a  copy  of  it  is  in  the  Ridgway 
Branch  of  the  Philadelphia  Library. 

129 


!Jfamou0  american  ^ongjS 

Although  the  tune  was  an  old  one 
even^%^;  ^its  first  appearance  as 
printed  music  was  considerably  later, 
and  not  in  this  country,  but  in  Scot- 
land and  England.  It  is  found  in  an 
issue  of  musical  selections  brought 
out  by  Aird  in  Glasgow,  supposedly 
in  1782.  The  first  instance  of  the 
printed  tune,  the  date  of  which  can  be 
fixed  with  certainty,  is  in  the  score  of 
"Two  to  One,"  a  musical  stage  piece 
by  the  prolific,  but  now  almost  forgot- 
ten English  composer,  Samuel  Arnold 
(ttot^rne~as  some  accounts  give  k), 
and  that  was  not  until  1784.  Yet  it  had 
been  sung  and  marched  to  by  the  "old 
Continentals  in  their  ragged  regimen- 
tals" during  the  American  Revolu- 
i^_tion. 

The  origin  of  its  vogue  in  this  coun- 
try rests  on  tradition,  for  which  it  may 
be  said,  however,  that  the  tradition  is 
not  wholly  unreasonable.  In  1755,  dur- 
ing the  war  with  the  French  and  In- 
dians, General  Amherst  was  in  com- 
130 


ganfiee  J^ooDle^  etc. 


mand  of  a  force  of  regulars  and  Colo- 
nials near  Albany.  The  Colonial  troops, 
arriving  from  various  localities,  in  mot- 
ley uniforms  or  none  at  all,  and  an 
equipment  which  it  would  be  mild  to 
describe  as  "assorted,"  excited  the 
ridicule  of  the  regulars.  With  the  forces 
was  a  Dr.  Richard  Schuckburg,  a  sur- 
geon, whose  appointment  as  Secre- 
tary of  Indian  Affairs  by  Sir  William 
Johnson  in  1760,  is  recorded  in  the 
New  York  State  papers.  As  a  joke 
upon  the  motley  Colonial  contingent, 
Dr.  Schuckburg  called  the  attention 
of  its  officers  to  the  old  nursery  tune 
which,  he  assured  them,  was  a  cele- 
brated piece  of  martial  music  in  Eng- 
land. To  the  vast  amusement  of  the 
British  regulars,  the  Colonials  took  to 
the  air  at  once,  pronounced  it  "'nation 
fine"  and  soon  were  singing  words  to 
it  of  which  the  jocose  doctor  probably 
was  the  author. 
He  little  knew  the  ball  he  had  started 
rolling.  The  American  does  not  object 

131 


famous  american  ^ongjs 

to  fun  at  his  own  expense  so  long  as 
it  is  good-natured,  and  the  Colonials 
were  quick  to  recognize  the  humor  of 
the  doggerel  verses.|fThere  are^ fifteen 
stanzas  to  "Yankee  Doodle,"  the  ori- 
ginal title  of  which  is  "The  Yankee's 
Return  from  Camp,"  the  whole  being 
a  description  of  a  young  hayseed's 
visit  to  the  soldiers  and  what  he  saw 
there,  until  he  scampered  home  in 
fright  because  some  of  them  told  him 
that  a  trench  they  were  digging  was 
intended  for  his  grave. 

THE  YANKEE'S  RETURN  FROM  CAMP 

Father  and  I  went  down  to  camp, 

Along  with  Captain  Gooding ; 
There  we  see  the  men  and  boys 
As  thick  as  hasty-pudding. 

Chorus 
Yankee  doodle,  keep  it  up, 

Yankee  doodle  dandy ; 
Mind  the  music  and  the  step, 
And  with  the  girls  be  handy. 

And  there  we  saw  a  thousand  men, 

As  rich  as  Squire  David  ; 
And  what  they  wasted  ev'ry  day 

I  wish  it  could  be  sav^d. 
132 


ganfiee  j^ooDle^  etc. 


The  'lasses  they  eat  ev'ry  day 
Would  keep  a  house  all  winter ; 

They  have  as  much  that  I  '11  be  bound 
They  eat  it  when  they  're  a  mind  to. 

And  there  we  saw  a  swamping  gun, 

Large  a  as  log  of  maple, 
Upon  a  deuced  Httle  cart  — 

A  load  for  father's  cattle. 

And  every  time  they  shoot  it  off 
It  takes  a  horn  of  powder ; 

It  makes  a  noise  like  father's  g^. 
Only  a  nation  louder. 

I  went  as  nigh  to  one  myself 

As  'Siah's  under-pinning ; 
And  father  went  as  nigh  again  — 

I  thought  the  deuce  was  in  him. 

Cousin  Simon  grew  so  bold, 
I  thought  he  would  have  cocked  it ; 

It  scared  me  so,  I  streaked  it  o£f, 
And  hung  by  father's  pocket 

But  Captain  Davis  had  a  gun, 
He  kind  of  clapped  his  hand  on 't ; 

He  stuck  a  crooked  stabbing  iron 
Upon  a  little  end  on 't. 

And  there  I  see  a  pumkin  shell 

As  big  as  mother's  basin, 
And  ev'ry  time  they  touched  it  off 

They  scampered  like  the  nation. 

I  see  a  little  barrel,  too, 
The  heads  were  made  of  leather, 


famous  american  ^ongg 

They  knocked  upon  it  with  little  clubs, 
And  called  the  folks  together. 

And  there  was  Captain  Washington, 

The  gentlefolks  about  him ; 
They  say  he 's  grown  so  tarnal  proud 

He  will  not  ride  without  'em. 

He  got  him  on  his  meeting  clothes, 

Upon  a  slapping  stallion ; 
He  set  the  world  along  in  rows, 

In  hundreds  and  in  millions. 

The  flaming  ribbons  in  their  hats, 
They  looked  so  tearing  fine,  ah ; 

I  wanted  plag^ily  to  get. 
To  give  to  my  Jemima. 

I  see  another  snarl  of  men, 
A-digging  graves,  they  told  me, 

So  tarnal  long,  so  tarnal  deep, 
They  'tended  they  should  hold  me. 

It  scared  me  so,  I  hooked  it  off. 

Nor  stopped  as  I  remember ; 
Nor  turned  about  till  I  got  home. 

Locked  up  in  mother's  chamber. 

Other  verses  are  to  be  found,  such  as 

Yankee  Doodle  came  to  tovim 

Wearing  leather  trousers ; 
He  said  he  could  n't  see  the  town, 

There  were  so  many  houses. 


134 


ganfeee  J^ooDle,  etc* 


and  these  lines,  which  were  sung  by 
the_Eritish  troops: 

Yankee  Doodle  came  to  town 

For  to  buy  a  firelock, 
We  will  tar  and  feather  him, 
. And  so  we  will  John  Hancock. 


Oddly  enough  the  most  generally 
known  words  in  this  country  seem  to 
be  the  "macaroni"  lines,  which,  as  I 
have  stated,  some  people  have  en- 
deavored to  refer  back  to  Cromwell's 
day. 
It  has  been  said  of  the  words  to 
"Yankee  Doodle"  that  they  never  will 
suffer  from  editing,  as  Shakespeare 
has,  because  they  could  not  be  worse. 
Nevertheless,  ill-rhymed  as  they  are, 
they  have  a  rollicking  spirit,  and  they 
describe  inimitably  the  goings-on  at 
a  poorly  disciplined  militia  camp,  such 
as  that  near  Albany  in  1755  doubtless 
was,  and  such  as  many  militia  camps 
have  been  since  and  still  may  be,  as 
they  were  in  the  old  "training  days." 
Moreover,  the  tune  is  brisk  and  catchy 

135 


(famous  american  ^ongis 

and  the  refrain  has  a  verve  that  swings 
the  whole  thing  along.  Words  and 
music  together  appealed  irresistibly 
to  the  agile,  frolicsome  American 
mind  and  sense  of  humor.  ^'Yankee 
Doodle"  became  the  marching  song, 
the  "Malbroucks'en  va-t-en  guerre," 
of  the  American  Revolution.  Given  to 
the  Americans  in  derision,  it  was  in 
a  derisive  sense  the  bands  of  Lord 
Percy's  troops  played  it  when  they 
advanced  to  the  battle  of  Lexington 
—  after  which  the  laugh  was  with  the 
Americans,  and  the  air  became  known 
for  a  while  as  the  "  Lexington  March." 
It  is  proper  to  state  that  Mr.  Math- 
ews does  not  regard  the  "Yankee 
Doodle"  words  as  of  earlier  than  Re- 
j^utionary  origin. 
The  music  of  "Yankee  Doodle  "  has 
appealed  to  at  least  two  musicians 
of  the  highest  standing.  When  Ru- 
binstein was  here  for  the  first  time 
(1872-3),  he  composed  a  set  of  varia- 
tions on  the  air  and  played  it  at  his 
136 


ganfiee  H^oohlt,  etc* 


last  concert.  Paderewski  began  writ- 
ing a  fantasy  on  ** Yankee  Doodle" 
and  intended  dedicating  it  to  William 
Mason,  telling  the  latter  that  he 
greatly  liked  the  tune.  Mason  found 
the  fantasy  capital,  as  far  as  it  had 
been  composed.  But  the  Rubinstein 
variations  already  had  been  dedi- 
cated to  him,  and  when  he  told  this 
to  Paderewski,  and  also  informed  him 
that,  strictly  speaking,  "  Yankee  Doo- 
dle" is  not  a  national  air  in  the  same 
sense  as  "God  save  the  King"  is  with 
the  English,  the  Polish  musician  was 
dissuaded  from  his  purpose  and  did 
not  finish  the  fantasy.  ^s^^ 

What  is  regarded  as  the  first  genu?^ 
inely  comic  poem— comic  as  distin- 
guished from  mere  doggerel — pro- 
duced in  this  country  was  written  to 
the  tune  of  "Yankee  Doodle."  This 
was  Francis  Hopkinson's  "  Battle  of 
the  Kegs."  In  1777  David  Bushnell,  a 
Connecticut  Yankee,  attempted  to 
blow  up  the  British  fleet,  then  lying 

137 


at  Philadelphia,  by  floating  down  the 
river  kegs  filled  with  powder  and  fit- 
ted with  spring  locks.  One  of  the  kegs 
exploded  prematurely,  and  the  British 
soldiers  on  shore,  in  great  flurry  and 
alarm,  opened  fire  on  the  strange 
flotilla. 

From  morn  to  night  these  men  of  might 

Displayed  amazing  courage ; 
And  when  the  sun  was  fairly  down, 

Retired  to  sup  their  porridge. 

Various  attempts  have  been  made  to 
substitute  stanzas  of  a  more  literary 
quality  for  the  original  words  of  "Yan- 
kee Doodle."  George  P.  Morris,  the 
associate  of  N.  P.  Willis,  was  among 
those  who  wrote  new  words.  But  al- 
though his  "improved"  lines  were 
sung  by  the  famous  Hutchinson  family, 
they  never  supplanted  the  ill-rhymed 
burlesque  which  the  Colonials  or  Mi- 
nute-Men, or  both,  had  pronounced 
" '  nation  fine,"  and  which  may  be  called 
our  national  "Mother  Goose,"  the 
nursery  rhyme  of  the  American  army. 
138 


Bfl^l^HRr  C"         ^^^I^SBBKllilifc  -^1 

c* 

Slq 

r 

"YANKEE    DOODLE  " 
From  the  painting  by  A.  M.  Willard 


panfiee  J^ooDle^  etc. 


In  1876  there  was  exhibited  at  the 
Centennial  in  Philadelphia  a  paint- 
ing entitled  "The  Spirit  of  '76,  or 
Yankee  Doodle."  While  imperfect 
technically,  it  was  executed  with  such 
evident  dramatic  power  that  it  made 
a  deep  impression,  and  since  has  be- 
come well  known  through  frequent 
reproduction.  A  grim  old  man,  his 
features  sharp  as  an  eagle's,  is  beat- 
ing the  drum.  On  his  left  a  younger 
man  is  playing  the  fife.  On  the  right 
a  boy,  also  drumming,  is  looking  up 
earnestly  into  the  old  man's  face.  The 
three  are  marching  along  as  if  borne 
forward  by  an  irresistible  force.  Be- 
hind them  an  American  flag  is  un- 
furled to  the  breeze  and  soldiers  are 
following.  In  the  foreground  a  dying 
soldier  is  cheering  them  with  his  last 
voice.  The  whole,  in  its  bold  outlines, 
portrays  the  spirit  of  daring  and  sac- 
rifice on  the  part  of  old,  middle-aged 
and  young,  which  fought  and  won  the 
American  Revolution.  This  "Yankee 

139 


jfamoujs  amerfcan  Rongji 


Doodle"  picture  shows  one  side  of 
the  "Yankee  Doodle"  song,  which, 
although  doggerel,  was  a  war-song. 
After  the  Centennial  the  painting 
was  bought  by  General  John  Deve- 
reux,  of  Cleveland,  Ohio,  and  pre- 
sented by  him  to  his  native  town  of 
Marblehead,  Massachusetts,  where  it 
hangs  in  the  reading-room  of  Abbot 
Hall.  It  was  painted  by  Archibald  M. 
Willard  of  Cleveland. 

Often  it  is  said  that  the  Austrian 
national  hymn,  "Gott  erhalte  Franz 
den  Kaiser,"  which  was  composed 
by  Haydn,  is  the  only  known  instance 
of  the  deliberate  composition  of  an 
air  which,  intended  to  be  national, 
really  became  so  through  popular  ac- 
claim. But  we  have  a  patriotic  song 
which  is  popular  enough  to  be  called 
national  and  which  appears  to  have 
been  written  with  as  much  delibera- 
tion as  Haydn's  anthem.  It  was  in 
fact  written  to  be  sung  from  the  stage, 
140 


panUt  JBooDle^  tic. 


and  had  its  first  hearing  at  an  actor's 
benefit.  This  benefit  took  place  in 
Philadelphia,  then  the  seat  of  the 
United  States  government,  in  April, 
1798,  and  the  actor  concerned  in  it 
was  one  Gilbert  Fox.  A  few  days 
prior  to  the  performance,  the  sale  of 
seats  having  been  slack.  Fox  taxed 
his  brains  in  an  effort  to  devise  means 
to  bring  the  receipts  up  to  a  point 
where  they  would  show  some  profit 
*  instead  of,  as  then,  a  heavy  loss.  War 
was  in  the  air.  There  was  severe  ten- 
sion between  France  and  England, 
and  in  our  own  country,  one  party 
was  in  favor  of  aiding  France  in  the 
impending  struggle,  another  of  siding 
with  England,  and  excitement  here 
ran  high,  there  being  much  bitterness 
between  the  opposing  factions.  With 
an  eye  to  his  opportunity.  Fox  con- 
cluded that  conditions  were  just  right 
for  a  new  patriotic  song,  and  know- 
ing a  brilliant  young  lawyer,  Joseph 
Hopkinson,  a  son  of  Francis  Hopkin- 

141 


famous  American  ^ongg 

son,  author  of  "The  Battle  of  the 
Kegs,"  he  carried  his  idea  to  him. 
Hopkinson  promptly  agreed  to  write 
the  song,  and  did  so,  using  the  tune 
of  the  "President's  March."  That  is 
the  origin  of  "Hail,  Columbia." 

HAIL,  COLUMBIA 

Hail,  Columbia  1  happy  land ! 
Hail,  ye  heroes  1  heaven-born  band  1 

Who  fought  and  bled  in  Freedom's  cause. 

Who  fought  and  bled  in  Freedom's  cause, 
And  when  the  storm  of  war  was  gone, 
Enjoyed  the  peace  your  valor  won. 

Let  independence  be  our  boast, 

Ever  mindful  what  it  cost ; 

Ever  grateful  for  the  prize. 

Let  its  altar  reach  the  skies. 

Firm,  united,  let  us  be. 
Rallying  round  our  Liberty ; 
As  a  band  of  brothers  joined. 
Peace  and  safety  we  shall  find. 

Immortal  patriots !  rise  once  more : 
Defend  your  rights,  defend  your  shore : 

Let  no  rude  foe,  with  impious  hand. 

Let  no  rude  foe,  vrith  impious  hand. 
Invade  the  shrine  where  sacred  lies 
Of  toil  and  blood  the  well-earned  prize. 

While  offering  peace  sincere  and  just, 

In  Heaven  we  place  a  manly  trust. 

That  truth  and  justice  will  prevail. 

And  every  scheme  of  bondage  fail. 
142 


1 

F^-  'C 

1 

^^1 

W^^      .  ,:a;-A 

^^Bm 

'ff  -      « 

^^^^^^^1 

^HsL^^          1 

^^^^^E^s 

■ 

■ 

^L/* 

^        ^^^^ 

1 

1 

^^^^^X^^^^nHJ 

H 

^^^^^ 

H 

^H 

^^^^^^^^i^*^^r^^i 

H 

^1 

^H 

^^^^^^^KSr  ^        ^9 

^^^^1 

^^^^H 

^^^^^^H 

^^^^1 

^^^^1 

^^^^^^H 

^M 

IH 

^^l 

FRANCIS    HOPKINSON 


ganfiee  ©ooDle^  etc* 


Sound,  sound,  the  trump  of  Fame ! 

Let  WASHINGTON'S  great  name 
Ring  through  the  world  with  loud  applause. 
Ring  through  the  world  with  loud  applause  ; 

Let  every  clime  to  Freedom  dear, 

Listen  with  a  joyful  ear. 
With  equal  skill,  and  godlike  power, 
He  governed  in  the  fearful  hour 
Of  horrid  war ;  or  guides,  with  ease, 
The  happier  times  of  honest  peace. 

Behold  the  chief  who  now  commands. 
Once  more  to  serve  his  country,  stands 
The  rock  on  which  the  storm  will  beat. 
The  rock  on  which  the  storm  will  beat ; 
But,  armed  in  virtue  firm  and  true. 
His  hopes  are  fixed  on  Heaven  and  you. 
When  hope  was  sinking  in  dismay. 
And  glooms  obscured  Columbia's  day, 
His  steady  mind,  from  changes  free, 
Resolved  on  death  or  liberty. 

Fox's  announcement  that  a  new  pa- 
triotic song  would  be  heard  at  his 
benefit  packed  the  house.  The  song 
itself  was  an  immense  success.  It 
was  encored  many  times,  and  at  the 
end  every  one  in  the  house  caught  it 
up  and  joined  in  singing  it.  People 
recognized  that  it  favored  neither  the 
French  nor  the  English  partisans, 
but  was  written  in  a  spirit  of  broad, 

143 


jTamoug  ametfcan  ^otij^ 

self-reliant  patriotism  according  to 
which  this  country  and  its  own  inter- 
ests were  sufficient  unto  themselves 
without  foreign  entanglements.  It  is 
difficult  for  us  from  this  distance  in 
time  to  form  an  idea  of  the  effect  pro- 
duced by  the  song,  but  it  did  much 
to  allay  partisan  excitement  and  to 
prevent  the  United  States  from  med- 
dling in  foreign  affairs.  Doubtless 
President  Adams's  appreciation  of  this 
was  his  reason  for  seeking  to  coun- 
tenance and  even  add  to  its  vogue  by 
attending  the  theatre  with  his  entire 
cabinet,  especially  to  hear  the  song  a 
few  nights  after  its  first  presentation. 
The  play  in  which  Fox  appeared  at 
his  benefit  was  "The  Italian  Monk." 
This  circumstance  has  led  Louis  C. 
Elson,  a  critic  whose  scholarship  is 
seasoned  with  wit,  to  remark,  with 
reference  to  the  popularity  of  "Hail, 
Columbia,"  that  having  first  been 
heard  in  connection  with  "The  Italian 
Monk,"  it  still  continues  to  be  heard 
144 


ganfeee  ?^ooDle^  etc* 


in  connection  with  the  Italian  and 
his  monkey." 

Regarding  the  tune  to  which  "Hail 
Columbia"  is  sung,  the  "President's 
March"  was  a  very  popular  air  and  a 
capital  selection.  It  is  attributed  to 
various  composers,  most  persistently, 
perhaps,  to  a  German-American  mu- 
sician named  Roth,  who  resided  in 
Philadelphia  and  is  said  to  have  com- 
posed the  march  for  Washington's 
first  inauguration,  it  being  played  for 
the  first  time  in  Trenton  as  Wash- 
ington passed  through  there  on  his 
way  to  New  York.  But  Mr.  Oscar  G. 
Sonneck,  the  learned  head  of  the 
music  department  of  the  Library  of 
Congress,  who  has  carefully  investi- 
gated this  subject,  states  that  the 
composer  of  the  march  cannot  be 
named  with  any  degree  of  certainty. 

At  a  reunion  of  the  Harvard  class  of 
1829,  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  read  a 

145 


poem  in  which  he  devoted  several 
lines  to  each  of  his  classmates.  Two 
of  the  verses  ran  as  follows : 

And  there 's  a  fine  youngster  of  excellent  pith, 
Fate  tried  to  conceal  him  by  naming  him  Smith. 

That  Fate  did  not,  however,  succeed 
in  its  fell  design,  appears  from  further 
remarks  made  by  the  genial  "Auto- 
crat "  sixty-five  years  after  graduation. 
"Now  there's  Smith,"  said  Dr.  Holmes 
in  1894.  "His  name  will  be  honored 
by  every  school  child  in  the  land  when 
I  have  been  forgotten  a  hundredyears. 
He  wrote  *My  country,  'tis  of  thee.' 
Now  if  he  had  said  'Our  country'  the 
hymn  would  never  have  been  immor- 
tal, but  that  'My'  was  a  master- 
stroke. Every  one  who  sings  the  hymn 
at  once  feels  a  personal  ownership  in 
his  native  land.  The  hymn  will  last  as 
long  as  the  country." 
Another  distinguished  American  has 
had  something  to  say  about  the  hymn 
which  brought  the  young  gentleman 
whom  Fate  tried  to  conceal  "by  nam- 
146 


ganfeee  ©ooDle,  etc* 


ing  him  Smith"  into  the  open.  Edward 
Everett  Hale  relates  that  on  the 
Fourth  of  July,  1832,  when  he  was  ten 
years  old,  he  had  spent  all  his  holiday 
money  on  root-beer,  ginger-snaps  and 
oysters  at  the  celebration  on  Boston 
Common,  and  was  on  his  way  home 
when  he  saw  a  long  line  of  children 
marchingintothe  Park  Street  Church. 
He  joined  them,  and  during  the  exer- 
cises in  the  church,  heard  a  new  hymn, 
beginning  "My  country,  'tis  of  thee," 
rendered  by  five  hundred  voices.  Thus 
by  the  merest  chance,  and  because  his 
money  had  been  expended  so  rapidly, 
he  was  present  at  the  first  singing  of 
the  hymn  which  is  national  enough  to 
be  called  "America." 
It  had  been  written  in  February  of 
the  same  year  by  Samuel  Francis 
Smith,  who,  having  graduated  from 
Harvard,  was  then  a  divinity  student 
at  Andover.  As  has  been  the  case  with 
so  many  other  songs  that  have  become 
popular,    the    circumstances    under 

147 


which  ** America"  was  written  were 
due  to  chance.  If  a  friend  of  Lowell 
Mason's  had  not  brought  him  a  collec- 
tion of  German  melodies  from  abroad, 
and  if  Mason  had  not  turned  over  the 
book  to  the  young  divinity  student 
with  the  remark  that  he  would  be 
glad  to  see  any  translations  from  the 
German  words  which  the  latter  chose 
to  make,  Smith  simply  would  have 
remained  one  of  the  Smiths  and  Fate 
would  have  had  its  way.  As  he  turned 
over  the  leaves,  however,  he  came  to 
the  air  of  "God  save  the  King,"  and, 
struck  with  it,  glanced  at  the  German 
words  at  the  foot  of  the  page.  Under 
the  inspiration  of  the  moment  he 
wrote  in  half  an  hour,  and  on  a  scrap 
of  paper  which  he  picked  up  from  the 
table,  not  a  translation  but  an  entirely 
original  English,  or  rather  American, 
set  of  words. 

"America"  as  it  appears  in  the  hym- 
nals to-day  is  substantially  the  same 
as  it  was  penned  by  the  Andover  di- 
Z48 


SAMUEL    FRANCIS   SMITH 


ganfeee  ©ootile^  etc* 


vinity  student  in  that  brief  half  hour 
of  February,  1832. 

AMERICA 

My  country,  'tis  of  thee, 
Sweet  land  of  Liberty, 

Of  thee  I  sing ; 
Land  where  my  fathers  died  ; 
Land  of  the  pilgrims'  pride ; 
From  every  mountain  side 

Let  freedom  ring. 

My  native  country  !  thee, 
Lsmd  of  the  noble  free, 

Thy  name  I  love ; 
I  love  thy  rocks  and  rills, 
Thy  woods  and  templed  hills, 
My  heart  with  rapture  thrills 

Like  that  above. 

Let  music  swell  the  breeze, 
And  ring  from  all  the  trees 

Sweet  freedom's  song ; 
Let  mortal  tongues  awake, 
Let  all  that  breathe  partake. 
Let  rocks  their  silence  break, 

The  sound  prolong. 

Our  fathers'  God  I  to  thee. 
Author  of  liberty  I 

To  thee  we  sing ; 
Long  may  our  land  be  bright 
With  freedom's  holy  light, 
Protect  us  by  thy  might. 

Great  God,  our  King  1 

149 


jfamoug  american  ^ongg 

At  the  celebration  of  the  Washing- 
ton Inauguration  Centennial,  the  fol- 
lowing verse  was  added,  it  is  believed, 
by  the  author: 

Our  joyful  hearts  to-day, 
Their  grateful  tribute  pay, 

Happy  and  free. 
After  our  toils  and  fears, 
After  our  blood  and  tears, 
Strong  with  our  hundred  years, 

O  God,  to  thee. 

Smith  was  born  in  Boston  in  Octo- 
ber, 1808,  so  that  he  was  only  twenty- 
three  years  old  when  he  wrote  his 
famous  hymn.  He  lived  to  be  over 
eighty-seven,  was  a  pastor,  teacher 
and  editor,  and  the  author  of  other 
metrical  pieces  besides  *' America;" 
but  no  other  inspiration  equal  to  that 
chance  one  which  resulted  in  "My 
country,  'tis  of  thee,"  came  to  him 
during  those  long  years  of  faithful 
service.  When  we  consider,  however, 
that  many  men  of  far  more  distin- 
guished talents  wait  in  vain  for  Fate 
to  "strike  twelve"  we  may  conclude 
ISO 


ganfiee  J^ootile^  etc* 


that  he  was  an  exceptionally  lucky 
man  to  have  heard  it  strike  for  him 
that  once. 

Of  the  three  patriotic  songs  which, 
next  to  "The  Star-Spangled  Banner," 
are  best  known,  one,  "  Yankee  Doo- 
dle," dates  from  Colonial  days  and  is 
an  ante- Revolutionary  relic— was,  in 
fact,  a  national  air  before  we  were  a 
nation.  It  is  wholly  English  in  origin, 
but  its  humor  is  genuinely  American, 
and  it  turned  the  tables  neatly  against 
the  very  ones  who  produced  it  in  a 
spirit  of  derision.  "Hail,  Columbia" 
sprang  wholly  from  American  soil. 
"America"  was  written  by  a  son  of 
Massachusetts,  but  its  tune  is  Eng- 
lish. Nevertheless,  it  was  for  many 
years  our  national  anthem  and  only 
lately  has  been  supplanted  by  "The 
Star-Spangled  Banner."  The  unfurl- 
ing of  our  flag  over  distant  islands  of 
the  Pacific  has  appealed  to  popular 
imagination  which,  rightly  or  wrongly, 

151 


sees  in  that  flag  the  symbol  of  our 
prosperity,  our  valor  and  our  liberty. 
Yet  one  of  our  best  marches  is  based 
on  a  combination  of  "Yankee  Doo- 
dle" and  "The  Star-Spangled  Ban- 
ner,"—  Mother  Goose  and  Old  Glory,— 
which  shows  that,  while  the  Consti- 
tution may  not  always  follow  the  flag, 
our  irrepressible  sense  of  humor  does. 


152 


^ome  max  ^ong^ 


VII 

g)ome  azaar  ^ongg 

HE  Civil  War  inspired  many 
songs,  most  of  which,  how- 
ever, were  ephemeral.  Oddly 
enough  the  "John  Brown 
Song,"  which  was  the  great  marching 
song  of  the  Northern  armies  and  was 
sung  many  years  later  by  Kitchener's 
soldiers  in  the  Soudan  and  by  Ro- 
berts's troops  in  South  Africa,  was 
discarded  by  our  own  men  in  the  Span- 
ish War  for  a  popular  tune  of  the  day, 
"There'll  be  a  hot  Time  in  the  old 
Town  to-night,"  which  may  have 
seemed  to  them  more  appropriate  to 
the  occasion —and  to  the  temperature. 
There  are  two  curious  circumstances 
connected  with  the  origin  of  the  "John 
Brown  Song."  Just  as  "Dixie,"  the 
most  popular  song  of  the  South,  was 
the  work  of  a  Northerner,  so  the  great 
Northern  marching  song  was  of  South- 
ern origin,  being  an  old  camp-meet- 

155 


ing  hymn-tune.  Moreover,  while  al- 
most universally  supposed  to  have 
originated  in  a  grim  tribute  to  the  fa- 
mous John  Brown,  of  Ossawatomie,  as 
if  the  soul,  liberated  from  the  body  that 
swung  at  Harper's  Ferry,  were  march- 
ing with  the  Federal  armies,  the  song, 
in  the  beginning,  referred  to  an  en- 
tirely different  John  Brown.  The  words 
were  the  outcome  of  an  effort  on  the 
part  of  members  of  a  company  of 
the  Twelfth  Massachusetts  Infantry, 
which  soon  after  the  outbreak  of  the 
war  was  quartered  at  Fort  Warren, 
Boston,  to  make  sport  of  one  of 
their  comrades,  a  comical  Scotchman 
named  John  Brown.  However  this  may 
be,  and  it  is  vouched  for  on  excellent 
authority,  the  regiment  no  doubt  was 
the  first  to  sing  the  song.  As  it  marched 
to  the  front  across  Boston  Common 
and  afterwards  down  Broadway,  New 
York,  the  "John  Brown  Song"  rever- 
berating from  a  thousand  voices,  words 
and  music  were  caught  up  by  the  mul- 
156 


JOHN    BROWN 


^ome  OCIat  ^ongjs 


titudes  that  lined  the  sidewalks,  win- 
dows and  roofs,  and  spread  like  wild- 
fire from  city  to  city,  from  camp  to 
camp,  from  regiment  to  brigade,  from 
brigade  to  division,  from  division  to 
corps.  Even  before  the  regiment  left 
Fort  Warren,  its  officers,  little  real- 
izing that  the  song  was  destined  to 
become  associated  in  the  public  mind 
with  the  famous  John  Brown  and  to 
achieve  a  vogue  that  was  simply  mar- 
vellous, had  sought  to  have  the  troops 
change  the  name  to  Ellsworth,  in 
memory  of  Colonel  E.  E.  Ellsworth, 
the  first  commissioned  officer  killed  in 
the  war.  But  the  attempt  was  vain. 
Simple  "John  Brown"  suited  the  sol- 
diers better,  and  when  the  song  was 
published  at  Charlestown,  Massa- 
chusetts, it  bore  the  title  "John  Brown 
Song,"  and  the  "John  Brown  Song"  it 
remained.  In  this  first  edition,  one 
line  is  different  from  what  it  became 
shortly  afterward.  The  kind  of  tree 
from  which  the  threat  is  made  to  sus- 

157 


ifamouis  ametfcan  ^ongjsi 


pend  the  president  of  the  Confederacy 
is  not  specified.  It  simply  is  "a  tree." 
The  "sour  apple  tree"  evidently  was 
of  slightly  later  growth,  but  in  quoting 
the  words  I  will  make  allowance  for  it. 

JOHN  BROWN  SONG 

John  Brown's  body  lies  a-mouldering  in  the  grave, 

John  Brown's  body  lies  a-mouldering  in  the  grave, 

John  Brown's  body  lies  a-mouldering  in  the  grave, 

His  soul 's  marching  on  I 

Chorus 
Glory  Hally,  Hallelujah!  Glory  Hally,  Hallelujah  1 
Glory  Hally,  Hallelujah  1 

His  soul's  marching  on. 

He's  gone  to  be  a  soldier  in  the  army  of  the  Lord, 

He's  gone  to  be  a  soldier  in  the  army  of  the  Lord, 

He's  gone  to  be  a  soldier  in  the  army  of  the  Lord, 

His  soul's  marching  on  1 

John  Brown's  knapsack  is  strapped  on  his  back, 
John  Brown's  knapsack  is  strapped  on  his  back, 
John  Brown's  knapsack  is  strapped  on  his  back, 
His  soul's  marching  on  I 

His  pet  lambs  will  meet  him  on  the  way, 
His  pet  lambs  w^ill  meet  him  on  the  way, 
His  pet  lambs  v^rill  meet  him  on  the  way, 
They  go  marching  on ! 

They  will  hang  Jeff  Davis  to  a  sour  apple  tree  I 
They  vrill  hang  Jeff  Davis  to  a  sour  apple  tree  I 

158 


^ome  SHat:  ^ongis 


They  will  hang  Jeff  Davis  to  a  sour  apple  tree, 
As  they  march  along  1 

Now,  three  rousing  cheers  for  the  Union ! 
Now,  three  rousing  cheers  for  the  Union  1 
Now,  three  rousing  cheers  for  the  Union  1 
As  we  are  marching  on  I 

Chorus 
Glory  Hally,  Hallelujah  I  Glory  Hally,  Hallelujah  I 
Glory,  Hally,  Hallelujah ! 

Hip,  Hip,  Hip,  Hip,  Hurrah! 

The  officers  at  Fort  Warren  were  not 
the  only  ones  who  failed  to  recognize 
that  the  merit  of  these  words  lay  in 
their  very  lack  of  literary  finish  and 
in  their  grim  simplicity,  and  consid- 
ered them  undignified.  Edna  Dean 
Proctor  endeavored  to  raise  the  song 
to  what  it  would  please  the  connois- 
seur to  call  a  higher  level,  and  wrote 
new  words.  But  the  "John  Brown 
Song"  survived  the  effort.  In  Decem- 
ber, i86i,  a  party  which  included 
James  Freeman  Clarke  and  Julia  Ward 
Howe  visited  an  outpost  of  the  army 
in  Virginia,  witnessed  a  skirmish,  and 
heard  the  soldiers,  as  they  returned 

159 


f amoug  amertcan  ^ongg 

to  camp,  singing  their  favorite  march- 
ing song.  Dr.  Clarke  suggested  to 
Mrs.  Howe  that  she  write  better  words 
to  go  with  the  sturdy  rhythm  of  the 
music.  The  result  was  the  "Battle- 
Hymn  of  the  Republic,"  undoubtedly 
the  finest  poem  produced  by  the  Civil 
War,  but  not  destined  to  be  consid- 
ered "better  words"  by  the  soldiers, 
who  clung  to  their  rude  chant,  the 
"John  Brown  Song." 

BATTLE-HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC 

Mine  eyes  have  seen  the  glory  of  the  coming  of  the 

Lord: 
He  is  trampling  out  the  vintage  where  the  grapes  of 

wrath  are  stored; 
He  hath  loosed  the  fateful  lightning  of  his  terrible  swift 

sword : 

His  truth  is  marching  on. 

I  have  seen  Him  in  the  watch-fires  of  a  hundred  cir- 
cling camps ; 

They  have  builded  Him  an  altar  in  the  evening  dews 
and  damps ; 

I  can  read  his  righteous  sentence  by  the  dim  and  flar- 
ing lamps. 
His  day  is  marching  on. 


i6o 


PhotuKraph,  Copyright,  I'.n 
By  J.  E.  Puray,  Boston 


JULIA  WARD    HOWE 


^ome  CKHar  ^ongjss 


I  have  read  a  fiery  gospel,  writ  in  burnished  rows  of 

steel : 
"As  ye  deal  with  my  contemners,  so  with  you  my  grace 

shall  deal ; 
Let  the  Hero,  born  of  woman,  crush  the  serpent  with 

his  heel, 
Since  God  is  marching  on." 

He  has  sounded  forth  the  trumpet  that  shall  never  call 
retreat ; 

He  is  sifting  out  the  hearts  of  men  before  his  judg- 
ment-seat : 

Oh !  be  swift,  my  soul,  to  answer  Him  I  be  jubilant,  my 
feet! 
Our  God  is  marching  on. 

In  the  beauty  of  the  lilies  Christ  was  born  across  the 

sea, 
With  a  glory  in  his  bosom  that  transfigures  you  and 

me : 
As  he  died  to  make  men  holy,  let  us  die  to  make  men 

free, 
While  God  is  marching  on. 

No  doubt  it  is  too  sectional  to  have 
been  sung  in  the  Spanish  War  when 
North  and  South  marched  shoulder 
to  shoulder  once  more.  Yet  had  it 
been  sung  by  our  troops  in  Cuba, 
it  would  now  be,  through  its  use  by 
the  British  soldiers  in  the  Soudan  and 
in  South  Africa,  the  marching  song 

i6i 


f  amou)2i  american  ^ong^ 

of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  Although, 
apparently,  there  no  longer  is  a  chance 
of  that,  it  is  famous  enough  to  make 
it  worth  while  to  quote  the  old  camp- 
meeting  hymn  on  which  it  is  based. 
This  hymn  is  said  to  have  been  sung 
as  early  as  1856  in  colored  churches 
in  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  and  to 
have  been  parodied  by  a  fire  com- 
pany in  that  city.  Its  words  are  the 
simplest,  and  as  in  the  ''John  Brown 
Song,"  the  first  line  of  each  stanza  is 

thrice  repeated. 

\  1 

I! 

Say,  brothers,  will  you  meet  us? 

Say,  brothers,  will  you  meet  us? 

Say,  brothers,  will  you  meet  us, 

On  Canaan's  happy  shore  ? 

By  the  grace  of  God  we'll  meet  you, 

I  /  By  the  grace  of  God  we  '11  meet  you, 
I  By  the  grace  of  God  we'll  meet  you, 
j  Where  parting  is  no  more. 

Jesus  lives  and  reigns  forever, 

II  Jesus  lives  and  reigns  forever, 
I  Jesus  lives  and  reigns  forever, 
\  On  Canaan's  happy  shore. 

I 

The  melody  is  attributed  to  William 
162 


^ome  mat  ^ongjs 


Steffe,  a  composer  of  Methodist  hymn- 
tunes. 

Henry  Clay  Work's  "Marching 
through  Georgia"  is  a  Civil  War  song 
which  seems  destined  to  survive.  The 
fact  that  it  is  reminiscent  commends 
it  to  veterans,  and  of  course  it  always 
figured  at  celebrations  of  which  Sher- 
man was  the  central  figure.  The  Gen- 
eral professed  a  great  dislike  for  the 
tune  and  protested  annoyance  when- 
ever he  heard  it.  He  used  to  relate 
that  one  night  while  at  a  hotel  abroad, 
he  heard  a  band  coming  down  the 
street  playing  the  hateful  tune.  It 
seemed  to  have  pursued  him  even  into 
foreign  parts.  He  quickly  got  into  his 
uniform  and  went  out  on  to  the  bal- 
cony under  the  impression  that  a  sere- 
nade or  welcome  was  to  be  tendered 
him.  But  to  his  surprise  the  band  and 
its  followers  marched  past  without  so 
much  as  any  one  looking  up  at  him. 
The  air  is  a  popular  one  abroad— as 

163 


ifamoujs  amerfcan  ^ongJJ 


General  Sherman  discovered  from  this 
incident.  There  is  no  special  history 
connected  with  the  song,  and,  aside 
from  its  genuine  merit  as  a  war  song, 
the  most  interesting  fact  about  it  is 
the  General's  dislike  of  it,— whether 
real  or,  as  some  of  his  friends  believe, 
pretended, — a  harmless  idiosyncrasy 
of  a  great  man. 

MARCHING  THROUGH  GEORGIA* 

Bring  the  good  old  bugle,  boys,  we'll  sing  another 

song  — 
Sing  it  with  a  spirit  that  will  start  the  world  along  — 
Sing  it  as  we  used  to  sing  it,  fifty  thousand  strong, 
While  we  were  marching  through  Georgia. 

Chorus 
Hurrah !  Hurrah  1  we  bring  the  jubilee ! 
Hurrah !  Hurrah  1  the  flag  that  makes  you  free  I 
So  we  sang  the  chorus  from  Atlanta  to  the  sea, 
While  we  were  marching  through  Georgia. 

How  the  darkeys  shouted  when  they  heard  the  joyful 

sound ! 
How  the  turkeys  gobbled  which  our  commissary  found  I 
How  the  sweet  potatoes  even  started  from  the  ground, 
While  we  were  marching  through  Georgia. 


*  By  permission  of  The  S.  Brainard's  Sons  Co.,  owners  of  copyright 
on  words  and  music. 


164 


^ome  mat  ^ongjs 


Yes,  and  there  were  Union  men  who  wept  with  joyful 

tears, 
When  they  saw  the  honor'd  flag  they  had  not  seen  for 

years ; 
Hardly  could  they  be  restrained  from  breaking  forth  in 

cheers. 
While  we  were  marching  through  Georgia. 

"Sherman's  dashing  Yankee  boys  will  never  reach  the 

coast ! " 
So  the  saucy  rebels  said,  and  't  was  a  handsome  boast, 
Had  they  not  forgot,  alas  I  to  reckon  with  the  host, 
While  we  were  marching  through  Georgia. 

So  we  made  a  thoroughfare  for  Freedom  and  her  train. 
Sixty  miles  in  latitude  —  three  hundred  to  the  main ; 
Treason  fled  before  us,  for  resistance  was  in  vain. 
While  we  were  marching  through  Georgia. 

Henry  Clay  Work  was  self-taught. 
George  F.  Root,  who  composed  "The 
Battle-Cry  of  Freedom,"  "Tramp, 
tramp,  tramp,  the  boys  are  march- 
ing" and  "Just  before  the  battle,  mo- 
ther," was  a  musician  of  the  Lowell 
Mason  type,  musically  cultivated  with- 
in the  limits  of  the  facilities  offered  by 
this  country  in  his  youth,  with  a  sup- 
plement of  brief  study  abroad,  but 
with  natural  gifts  and  a  rare  peda- 
gogic faculty,  which  caused  his  labors 

165 


f amoug  american  ^ongg 

in  schools  and  at  musical  conventions 
to  be  of  much  importance  in  spread- 
ing a  knowledge  of  music.  His  **  Bat- 
tle-Cry of  Freedom"  often  was  or- 
dered to  be  sung  by  the  soldiers  when 
going  into  battle.  A  curious  offshoot 
from  it  was  the  adaptation  of  *'Mary 
had  a  little  lamb"  to  the  tune,  the 
soldiers  singing, 

Mat7  had  a  little  lamb, 
Its  fleece  was  white  as  snow ; 
And  everywhere  where  Mary  went, 
The  lamb  was  sure  to  go, 

"  Shouting  the  battle-cry  of  freedom ! " 

When  the  Civil  War  broke  out,  a 
young  Marylander,  named  James 
Ryder  Randall,  was  residing  in  New 
Orleans  where  he  was  engaged  in 
newspaper  work.  Shortly  afterwards 
he  became  professor  of  English  at  the 
small  college  of  Poydras,  at  Pointe 
Coup6e,  on  the  Fausse  Riviere.  It  was 
here  the  news  reached  him,  in  April, 
1861,  that  Massachusetts  troops  had 
been  fired  upon  while  passing  through 
166 


^ome  Mat  ^on^^ 


Baltimore.  He  had  been  impatient, 
chagrined,  downcast,  at  the  refusal 
of  his  native  state  to  cast  its  fortunes 
with  the  Confederacy,  but  in  this  in- 
cident he  thought  he  discerned  the 
promise  that  it  would  do  so.  It  was 
the  inspiration  of  this  thought  which 
seized  upon  him  about  midnight  and 
enabled  him  to  produce  at  a  single 
sitting  what  is,  next  to  the  "Battle 
Hymn  of  the  Republic,"  the  finest 
poem  of  the  Civil  War,  "Maryland," 
which,  as  sung  to  the  air  of  "Lauri- 
ger  Horatius"  (the  German  folk-mel- 
ody, "O  Tannenbaum"),  was  called  by 
Alexander  H.  Stephens  the  "Mar- 
seillaise of  the  Confederacy."  The  fol- 
lowing seem  to  me  its  most  spirited 
stanzas : 

Hark  to  thy  wandering  son's  appeal, 

Maryland ! 
My  mother  state !  To  thee  I  kneel, 

Maryland ! 
For  life  and  death,  for  woe  and  weal, 
Thy  peerless  chivalry  reveal, 
And  gird  thy  beauteous  limbs  with  steel, 

Maryland,  my  Maryland ! 

167 


Thou  wilt  not  cower  in  the  dust, 

Maryland ! 
Thy  beaming  sword  shall  never  rust, 

Maryland ! 
Remember  Carroll's  sacred  trust, 
Remember  Howard's  warlike  thrust. 
And  all  thy  slumberers  with  the  just, 

Maryland,  my  Maryland ! 

Thou  wilt  not  yield  the  Vandal  toll, 

Maryland ! 
Thou  wilt  not  crook  to  his  control, 

Maryland ! 
Better  the  fire  upon  thee  roll, 
Better  the  blade,  the  shot,  the  bowl. 
Than  crucifixion  of  the  soul, 

Maryland,  my  Maryland ! 

The  poem  was  published  in  the  New 
Orleans  "Delta,"  and  attracted  imme- 
diate attention.  Miss  Jennie  Gary,  of 
Baltimore,  selected  the  air  for  the 
words,  and  it  gained  its  first  vogue  as 
a  war  song  when  she  sang  it  at  a  se- 
renade given  to  her  and  her  sister 
Hetty  (afterwards  the  wife  of  Profes- 
sor H.  Newell  Martin,  of  Johns  Hop- 
kins University)  by  Maryland  troops 
in  Beauregard's  army  at  Fairfax  Court 
House,  Virginia.  The  author  of  the 

i68 


^ome  mat  ^ongs 


poem,  who  was  born  in  Baltimore  in 
1839,  is  living  in  Augusta,  Georgia. 
Among  his  other  poems  is  the  fine 
hymn  "Resurgam." 

"If  we  had  had  your  songs,  you  never 
would  have  beaten  us,"  is  the  remark 
said  to  have  been  made  by  a  Confeder- 
ate officer  to  a  Northern  one.  This  may 
be  an  exaggerated  tribute  to  the  power 
of  song,  but  it  emphasizes  what  is  a 
fact,  namely,  that  the  war  songs  of 
the  North  had  considerably  more 
swing  and  vim  to  them  than  those  of 
the  South.  "Dixie"  and,  in  some  es- 
sentials, "Maryland"  were  so  unwar- 
like  that  they  have  become  almost  as 
popular  in  the  North  as  they  are  in 
the  South.  But  no  song  of  the  Civil 
War,  however  great  its  vogue  then  or 
since,  has  developed  the  capacity  of 
a  national  anthem.  That  honor  has 
been  accorded  to  "The  Star-Spangled 
Banner,"  in  the  singing  of  which  both 
sides  now  happily  can  join. 


14  DAY  USE  JB 

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